Sunday, January 18, 2009

Where's My Nesting Egg?

Time to drag out the perfect pancake recipe and the electric griddle, and nest like the wind.

You know it. Both the first commenter & I wondered about "nesting like the wind." Unless Megan's incubating more eggs for the flapjack recipe, nesting makes no sense. She's cocooning (Doubtless in her slankie or what ever the eff. Was it a sleeket?) not nesting. Like a big praying mantis-y insectoid queen. (Oooh, snap! And totally uncalled for. Praise Jah Rastafari for the anonymity of the Internet.)

"Like the wind " is ... is ... what can you say? Maybe McArdle's in her Mini motoring about, eating pancakes.


Note to self (& other hate-bloggers): Stop it w/ the guilt. Everything you're responding to has been placed before the public eye by your "victim." It's not as if you're prying into their private lives/trash-cans, pricing their counter-tops through the kitchen window or the like. (W/ those one or two stalking exceptions)

Moments later: Clicked to the Betty Crocker recipe. It's a fetishistic deal where the sacrifice must be prepared the evening before:

Several hours/night before: Soften 3 tablespoons (a little less than half a stick) of unsalted butter

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

"[T]he slanket is actually as awesome as they claim." - MM

Anonymous said...

Who is Jane Galt, and why is she spending so much time fucking around with pancakes? She sounds as dumb as Megan, only she's got a name that sounds like someone's lame attempt to invoke Ayn Rand.

Also, "Nest like the wind?" makes no more sense that "sit as still as a mixmaster" or "rock out like a Great Dane." Makes me want to puke like a four-leaf clover.

Susan of Texas said...

I'm happy to say I don't feel guilty at all. I just picture her saying that teachers refuse to use successful methods or work hard because they are too lazy. Instant inspiration.

Anon, did you know Megan is Jane Galt?

Susan of Texas said...

Hmmmm. Megan insulted me and my brethern, pissing me off royally. So I left comments disagreeing strenuously and rightously, and was subsequently banned. Because I was banned I started addding coverage of Megan along with coverage of the square Corner that looks round. I'm really more interested in authoritarian followers than leader wanna-bes.

You know, if you keep insulting enough people, some of them are going to angry. That anger is easily diffused with personal interaction--few of us will abuse people we think we know--but Megan was too insecure and vain to argue with a commenter.

Which leads me to the moral of my story: Kids, if you decide to insult people, make sure they aren't better writers.

NutellaonToast said...

Which post was it that set you of, Susan?

Susan of Texas said...

This really pissed me off too. Saying that teaching should be downgraded to a rote job anyone off the street could do. Just have them babysit and fill out forms. What disrespect for any child in public school, for the profession of teaching, for the hard work and creativity of the good teachers. I've had students with that attitude, and they were not my better students, although they fancied they were better than the others.

Anonymous said...

I don't feel guilt at all. I don't even hate Megan. People are generally calling her out for her thoughts and ideas, rarely insulting her on a base level. It would be one thing if we were all loitering around, calling her a fat cow and making fun of the gap in her teeth or something. That would be cheap and mean. But there's nothing wrong with calling her stupid when she writes something that is blatantly stupid, which pretty much happens every day.

Anonymous said...

Plus, the recipe is bogus. Buttermilk, yes, by all means. "Glossy" egg whites folded in? Puh-leeze. This is more appropriate for waffles. And what's the point of making a tender quick-bread with some body to it, if it's going to "soak up" a lot of syrup and turn to mush?

Pancake fail.

spencer said...

Who is Jane Galt

Jane Galt is Megan McArdle, actually.

She sounds as dumb as Megan

And now you know why.