New Low


It takes raw talent to mess up a frozen pizza. And friends, that's exactly what I did tonight.

DiGiorno's Ultimate Cheese Pizza lists three directions on the back of the box. #1 is turn on the oven, and #3 is "Bake for 17 minutes."

Step 2 is where things get tricky.

I removed the pizza from the box (check) and from the overwrap (check), but failed to take off the cardboard platter underneath. Seventeen minutes and one "Oh my gosh I'm such a freaking idiot" later, I realized my pathetic, pathetic mistake.

Brock will hang this one over my head for a long time. And what a shame, too, since he just barely let go of that one time (three years ago, mind you!) that I served him canned condensed clam chowder. No, really, it was LITERALLY condensed seeing as how I forgot to add milk and all.

Hopefully he's also forgotten about that one time I put cheese on the outside of his omelette. But if he hasn't, I'll kindly remind him of the time he told me "You know, you're not that fat . . . just muscular."

Or the one time in February when he threw me into his parents freezing pool with all my clothes on? Not to mention the fact that the pool had FROGS in it who had DIED after hopping in and discovering that--surprise!--CHLORINE KILLS THEM.

Like my father-in-law's sweatshirt and my moose pajama pants?
It's Brock's favorite ensemble of mine...


  1. believe me I know how you feel. The other day I was making something for a class and was thinking highly of my baking skills. My thoughts went like this: "I'm like the freakin' Julia Child of Renaissance Food!"

    Of course I ended up lighting the oven on fire...

  2. I do like that ensemble, thought I must say that its nothing without those charming middle fingers ;)

  3. Good for you. I love Mormons that flip people off. It makes us human.

    Also. See my drumsticks blog. I sympathize.


© Raesevelt All rights reserved . Design by Blog Milk Powered by Blogger