Sleep Deprivation Leads to Scary Things.

The title says enough, people.

Dear God, I feel like I haven't slept at all this weekend. I can't stress this enough, but I'm a grandma deep down inside.  All I need to is learn how to knit.

Just give me some needles and let me at it.
[via notsoboringworld]

When you're working all the time, you get home and sleep is the first thing on your mind.  Is that just me...oh.  Wow.  Well, I can't stop thinking about sleep.  If I was a dwarf, I think we all know who I'd be.

Basically.
[via disney-clipart]

But there are reasons why I got the less-than-normal amount of sleep this weekend.  Kids, I actually did things.  Congratulate me, please.  I know, I know.  And being social involves me staying up past 9:00 pm.  It was worth it though.  Naturally, I made something to bring.

Guess what I made.

Guess.  Please?

Alright, I'll tell you.  But only because you asked.  I made Chicken Wing Dip.


Oh baby.  I could literally eat that stuff until the end of the earth.  It's so horrible for you, but sometimes you need to sacrifice your own well-being to eat delicious food.

This man does it on a daily basis.
[via googleimages]

With that being said, I ventured on my culinary quest.  I literally whipped this baby up, because I just got out of work and I had to be at my friend's house in an hour.  So I apologize about the picture quality.

Oh and before we get deep in this food business, I have an announcement.  Instant thought blogging.  I don't plan what I write, it just flows out like magic.  Yeah, that's right.

Back to my tangent.  So about a month ago, I decided that it was finally time to get a pair of Converse sneakers.  And with the amount of money I'm making this summer, obviously they needed to be custom built. Pardon me for trying to live a lavish lifestyle every now and then.  But I designed them and I am in love.  

Aren't they beautiful?  I did a rather simple design.  Purple on the outside, teal on the inside.  Matching teal stitching and a purple rubber line to go with the sidewall.  Magical.  

Oh I don't know if you noticed the bottom of the shoe right there, but I got my name on the shoe.  Mostly so when I throw then up to do drug deals in the streets, I can easily find the sneakers.  After all, the last thing I would want after a hard day of dishin' out the goods is to put on my kickass shoes and stroll on home.

I really like them.  They're a little bright, but WHATEVER.  I love them and that's all that matters.  

BACK TO THE STORY.

Chicken Wing Dip (chicck-in wee-nguh d-ee-puh): Synonyms include magic, perfection, divinity, proof of God's existence, artery clogger, etc.

Basically, this stuff is wonderful.  And I'm going to teach you ladies and gents how I make mine.  Now, this is really a privilege for me to give out this recipe.  But I'm doing it because five people read this, so I'm not very concerned.  

ALRIGHT.  Let's do this.

Boil some chicken up.  Trim off the fat before boiling, pop the chicken in the water and turn the heat on.  Add a good amount of poultry seasoning, salt and pepper to the chicken.  Also, pour a dash of white vinegar in there.  When the chicken is cooked, take it out and shred it.  Now, I know a ton of people cube their chicken.

Do you want to know why they cube it? It's because people that cube their chicken are lazy.  

LAZY. Trust me when I say that shredding the chicken is a MILLION times better.  Every bite is chicken.  

Bkaw! CHICKEN.  Mmm. Oh sporadic thoughts.  Cluck. Cluck. Cluck. 

So once the chicken is shredded, pop it in a bowl.

It already tastes incredible.

Here's where it gets a little cuckoo.  But NOT for Cocoa Puffs.  Depending on how many chicken breasts you have, my general rule is for every breast, you should use 1/3 of a brick of cream cheese.

Take whatever amount of cream cheese you deem necessary and cube it up.  And then we get a little weird.  Melt it in a pan.  Until the cream cheese is completely liquid.

Melty melty melt.

Once it's cream cheese liquid, stir it into the chicken until it's well coated.  It kinda looks gross at this point, so I'll save you an image. 

Next step is to take ranch dressing and hot sauce.  Mix an even ratio into a bowl and add salt and pepper.  Add more hot sauce to taste.  Pour it into the chicken and mix it in.

Mmm.  Here's where your arteries begin to close and your heart begins to stop.  But this is also the point in this process when your mouth begins to drool uncontrollably.  UNCONTROLLABLY.

Take some shredded sharp cheddar.  Take a handful of it and throw it in the mix.  A generous handful.  You should pretend you're Sultan Kosen {the man who happens to possess the world's largest hands}.  Do the same thing over again, only this time switch it up and use shredded mozzarella.

Stir the mass amount of cheese in and put it in a baking dish.  Take more cheese and cover the dip.  Mmm.  Cheese.

Cover it with foil and bake it until the cheese on top begins to melt.  Then take the foil off and broil that delicious dip until the cheese is bubbly and golden brown.  

Currently residing in my tummeh.

So I brought this perfect dish to my friend's house and it was promptly devoured.  We all spent the night laughing around a bonfire, telling stories about our childhoods and college.  I supervised the creation of a whirlpool and literally gorged myself on my dip, pizza, cookies, and everything else horrible.  But it's okay.  I also fell in love with an adorable puggle named Lucy.  

And my lovely friend Kim gave me some kickass henna.

[via kim's incredible mind]

But I was yawning at 9:00 at night.  And we were all there until about 1:00am.  Yeah.  Pure torture was what it was, folks.  Don't get me wrong, I had a great time, but I was beat.  So when I hit the floor to go to sleep, I was OUT.  I guess I petted my friend in the night.  Obviously I thought she was Gary.  Get at me.

So on Friday night, I would say that I got a solid five hours of sleep.  Compared to my usual nineteen, this put me off.  

And then yesterday afternoon, Gary's momma came over.  She's staying for the weekend and it's awesome.  You see, Gary and his mom (Star) are basically the same exact dog.  

They both jump up on the counter to steal food.  When they're together, they tag-team and share the profit.

They both demand to sleep under the blankets regardless of outside temperature.

They both eat ice cubes like they're going out of style.

And they both look incredibly alike.  If Gary was the same color as Star, I swear that he would just be a skinny version of her. 

Don't believe me?

Here's Gary:

And here's Star:

And here are both of them together:

And let me tell you, sleeping with both of those pups is a CHORE.  They're both bed hogs and they both want to sleep in the same damn spots.  We started off in my room with a queen bed.  I thought that would be fine.

THEY HAD OTHER PLANS.

They must've known there was a guest room downstairs with a king sized bed.  They effing worked together to make it so uncomfortable for me to sleep in my own bed that the only solution would be more mattress.

Those damn dogs got their wish.  We moved downstairs and they settled into the bed.  This mattress is significantly less comfortable than mine, so my back was in pain almost instantaneously.  Not to mention that is was quite muggy and there is no air conditioning in the guest room.  So I opened the windows and turned the fan on.

I should've known something was up when out of dead slumber, both of the dogs popped their heads up.

God damn.  The fan brought in the fresh air from outside.  But the air had an odd stench.  A SKUNK was around and you could tell that it had just sprayed.

Stinky bastards.
[via discovery]

The room filled with skunk smell.  I blacked out.  I wish that last sentence was true.  While I didn't black out, my olfactory nerves went nuts.  

After that fiasco calmed down, I turned off the lights and all effing hell broke loose.  We had an expanse of bed to choose from.  But those dogs couldn't decide where they wanted to sleep.  When they did, my body was contorted to fit around the dogs.  

I was all Cirque du Soleil.  Needless to say, sleep was nil last night.  Dear lord.

Me, from about midnight to 8am.
[via lesdamesflexibles]

So I've been all crazy sauce today.  This is what no sleep does to me.  It turns me into a lunatic.  So I think to conclude this post, I am going to clearly state that I am promptly going to sleep.  In my own bed.  With probably one dog.  Or none.  But I'm alright with that this time around.

Rawr Rawr Glug Glug. Possible Pneumonia.

Okay, I don't have pneumonia.  I probably won't get it.  But a friend might.  You'll understand later in this post.  I shall enlighten all of you.

I WILL ENLIGHTEN YOU ABOUT EVERYTHING.
[via soulselfhelp]

First, let me apologize.  I've been so bad lately and I really do feel guilty about not blogging in over two weeks.  Yeah I know.  It's been too long.

But I'm back.  Back in black.  I hit the sack. I've been too long, I'm glad to be back.

Please tell me you got the AC/DC reference.
[via sweetlyrics]

Anywho, I should not excuse the lack of blogging.  However, I must say that is was Shark Week last week.  And on top of that and working the usual 40 hours, I was planning an incredible whitewater rafting trip.  Yeah, so needless to say I was Eve-l Knievel.  Haha, get it? Eve-l? UGH.  I'm finished trying to impress you guys.

So I hope you accept my apology.  If you don't then just leave and then come back because we both know you can't resist my prose.  Yeah I said it.

Back to the story.  Last week was Shark Week.  If you read this blog, I really hope you watch it.  Because literally everyone that's awesome watches Shark Week.

Effing ANDY SAMBERG hosted it this year.

Um, yeah.
[via discoverychannel]

I set my DVR on Sunday morning.  Until the next Sunday.  I literally recorded every single Shark Week show to air.  Obsessive? HELL NO.  Shark Week is like having Christmas for seven days in the middle of summer.  Mmm.

That and I'm a freak for sharks.  I was going to be a marine biologist, focusing on sharks.  Then I took another route.  When I was a little tyke, the other children would take out books on Arthur and all-picture nonsense.

Psh, that was so three years ago, WHEN I WAS LEARNING TO READ.  Pictures didn't do it for me. When I was seven, I wanted substance.  Hardcore facts.  I had a reading light attached to my headboard and I would read until my brain said stop. I would go to the library and pull encyclopedias and guides about sharks.

Circa 1995-2011
[via wordpress]

  Sharks.  Sharks.  Rawr.  Grrr.  Chomp.  Sharks.  I grew to love the buggers.  Grew to love their sheer force and predatory skill.  I grew to love that there are things in this world that are just as complex as us.  Sharks are truly a wonder.

Life goal: Swim with a great white.  Or tiger.  Or both.

Puppies of the deep.
[via underwater.com]

As usual, shark week was amazing.  And to finish it off, a gang of hoodlums and I went whitewater rafting.

Oh yeah, baby.  I was sucked into a rapid while in a boat, almost died, but obviously survived.  Then another one of my friends almost died and I saved her.  How wonderful life is.

But for real, it was incredible.  I effing love whitewater rafting.  It's such a rush.  You really get to appreciate the power nature has.  It's so humbling.

And scary.

I would do it all the time if I could.  Mmm.  Rowing up in front, constantly getting splashed in the face, almost falling out of the raft dozens of times.  It was the highlight of my summer.

But today I woke up extremely sore, calloused and exhausted.  My body said no this morning.  My mind said "if you don't wake up you're going to die."  I was threatening myself.  Typical.

While rafting though, out of the death-defying rafting, my contacts managed to stay in.  Guys, I'll be taking a shower and they'll come out sometimes.

Obviously the big guy upstairs is watching over me and my eyes.

HAIL HIM.
[via planetarybargains]

In fact, I was so amazed, that I took it upon myself to craft a letter to the head of my contact lens brand.  His name is Peter.  And you should all know that this was supposed to be humorous and thankful.  My goal was to be myself and possibly make his day.  Yes, I am going to copy and paste this on.  I changed nothing and yes, I intend on mailing this.

I'm not crazy.  Here we go.  Mind you, this letter explains how my friend and I almost died.  That's why I didn't explain it.

Dear Peter,

I know that being the Vice President of a world-class company is most certainly a task that involves a lot of time and effort.  In fact, reading letters is probably something that gets in your way, oftentimes filled with complaints.  Then again, I am not a vice president so I can’t relate.  But I feel if you take the time to read my story, it will be worth your while.

Recently, a few friends and I went whitewater rafting.  Now these rapids were definitely not for beginners, and sitting in the front of the boat added to the excitement.  Peter, there was no doubt that I would get soaked on this trip.  The weather was perfect for rafting and so was the group’s attitude.  It should be noted at this point that I am as blind as a bat, and without my contact lenses or glasses I act like Velma from Scooby Doo.  Lost, knees on the ground and searching, hoping that my glasses are near.  When you go on an adventure like I did, you don’t want to miss a thing.  Between guiding my friends through the rapids and the beautiful scenery, this trip was something I would truly hate to not be able to see.

That being said, I wore my contact lenses on this trip.    In the beginning of the trip, our guide led us underneath a waterfall.  If you’ve ever been under a waterfall, you know how I felt.  But if you haven’t it can be compared to someone constantly pouring buckets of water on you over and over again.  Five minutes into this thing I was drenched.  And while it felt like millions of gallons were being poured onto my body, I couldn’t believe that I would lose my contacts five minutes into this trip. 

Needless to say, when I opened my eyes I was expecting the world to be a blur.  I will happily report that the lenses stayed on.  And they stayed on during my entire trip, Peter.  And trust me, the waterfall was the least of this treachery.

Continuing down the rapids, each wave seemed to crash into my face, and consequently my eyes.  After each blink, my contacts kept their respective places.  It was a miracle.  But then came the rapid where I almost met my death.  Yes, I almost died on this rapid.  Sitting in the front, the rapid was tilting the boat and filling my end.  We were surfing up the rapid, meaning that after we rode the rapid originally it was thought that turning around and riding up it would be fun.  What a mistake.  The front of the boat was promptly engulfed in the rapid, and I was stuck.  Water was rushing over my head and the only thing keeping me breathing was my friend next to me constantly pulling me up for air.  Needless to say, this was the point of my life that I wondered why I didn’t say goodbye to my dog and family.  I questioned why my last meal of my life was nearly raw-bacon and pancakes for a fundraiser.  I should’ve known.  I should have made that omelet for breakfast.  At least that’s a meal worth going down for. 

So here I am, relying on my friends for life.  When the guide turned the boat the other way and the very same friend that helped save me was sucked under the water, I opened my eyes and my adrenaline kicked in.  Everything was crystal clear, Peter.  How were my contact lenses still in?  Water definitely went in my eyes.  Heck, it went in my lungs.  After helping save my friend, my perfect vision got me thinking: I can’t believe that I’m still seeing.

So I suppose the moral of this very long and drawn out story is to thank you for being part of such an incredible product.  Anything that can withstand the force of nature and face the threat of death is okay in my book.  So again, thank you.  Your lenses let me have one of the best memories of my young adulthood, and I really can’t thank you and your company enough.  Keep up the good work, sir. 

So when I’m hitting the books in college, studying for that big chemistry exam or deciding to conquer dangerous rivers, it’s nice to know that I will always be able to see.  Enjoy your day, Peter.

Yours truly,

Eve

Yup.  You love it.

Burnt Rubber Smells Like Shee-it.

What a week it has been, kids.  And the weekend has only brought more festivities.

But this is not about my weekend.  That will be the next post (trust me, you don't want to miss out on that one).

This, is about my Wednesday and Thursday evenings.  Because let me tell you, they are more eventful than yours.  Probably.  Unless you're a famous movie actor going to every screening in Hollywood.

Or the minions in Despicable Me.  They're actually really busy all the time.
[via lindsayhumbert]

So let's chat about my Wednesday.  As usual, I was waking with the sunrise at 6 in the damn morning, knowing what the day was holding.  I've said this a million times, but I work at a car rental place.  Well, to increase business, obviously the best idea was to host a car show.  On a Wednesday.  Planning this thing was a fiasco.

Actually, fiasco is an understatement.  But in the end, everything turned out great.  About two hundred cars came out, and we somehow ran business as usual.

So I clocked in on that morning at 8:00.  Bitches, I clocked out at 9:45pm.  That's one long-ass day.  I volunteered to take pictures, but ended up running the registration booth.  And when you're registering 200 cars, picture time suffered.

But I did manage to snag a few.

"Ooh, aah"

"OOH, AAH."

"OOOH AHH OOOH AHH EVE THIS IS AWESOME."

"HOLY JESUS I WANT YOU TO TAKE MY WEDDING PICTURES."


Listen, if you really want me to take your wedding pictures, contact me for further information.  Anywho, all in all it was pretty good.  I walked away with 4.5 hours of overtime, a belly full of Dinosaur Bar-B-Que's pulled pork, and an awkward sunburn.

So I would rate my car show experience 56 out of 70 sumo wrestlers.  Until the damn burnouts started.  Have you ever smelled burning rubber?

Have you ever been immersed in a cloud of road smog and vaporized rubber and fire?


Huh? Huh? Because it's pretty damn miserable.

DAMN YOU. DAMN YOU.
[via corvetteconti]

The smell.  That smelly smell that smells...smelly.

Shoutout to Mr. Krabs.

Oh my god I can't even being to describe how horrible a burnout cloud smells.  But just think.  Two hundred cars...one burnout cloud for each.

Math time, folks.

200 x 1 = ? Think. Think. THINK.


That's 200 burnout clouds for you non-math wizards out there.  Two hundred times the nasty-ass smell of one burnout cloud.

I'm shuddering just thinking about it.

But anywho, after the quick clean up, I headed home and fell right asleep.  Then woke up the next day to go right back to work.

Dedication is what you could call that.  And monetary motivation.  I know you're impressed with that alliteration I just pulled off.

Thursday brought on a new beast.  Something enjoyable, yet full of work.  Something that does not allow Eve to relax after working for 8 hours.

I was paid to cater for a party.  My coworker couldn't find the time to make food for a grad party she was bringing a few dishes to, so she paid me to do it.

After work, I whipped up 4 dozen cupcakes and frosted them rainbow style.

Oh yeah.

But I also created something else.  Chicken riggies.  Ever heard of it?  Well let me tell you right now, it's effing delicious.  Pasta perfection.  Spicy yet creamy.  Tomato-y yet cheesy.  Mmm.  And honestly, this was one of the best batches I've ever made.  

It always happens that way.  You make the best food you've ever made and you can't even eat any of it.  MY life is just full of sorrow.  Cheesy, tomato-y sorrow.

But lucky for you, kids I feel super guilty for now blogging in a week.  So I will shareith my culinary ways with thee.  This always seems to happen, but I never take pictures of the end product anymore.  So use your imagination for the end.  

Oh, and refrain your salivary glands from overloading.

Now remember that this batch was made for like 30-40 people.  But the basic ratio is this:

1 [stick of butter] :1[white onion] :1[can of crushed tomatoes] :1/2 [cup of heavy cream] :3/4 [pound of pasta] :1[pound of chicken]

I just think this is the best way to do it, but there are definitely variations. 

So let's get started.

Throw the butter in a pot and melt it.  

You should know that any base with butter will be sheer perfection.

While that's turning into butter soup, take your onion and chop it into thick-ish ribbons.  Make them thin.  You'll notice that later in the game, most of those onions will basically melt into the sauce.  It's magical.

Okay it looks kinda gross, but this ugly duckling will turn into a beautiful swan.  So beautiful.

Cook them on medium heat until the onions start to soften.  Add in some red pepper flakes. Add as many as you want.  I usually start off with a few just to get the spice going and add more in later on when the sauce is almost finished.  Because you can always add more later, you can never take it out, ya dig?

While you're at it, throw some salt and pepper in there too.  Oh and like 6 cloves of minced garlic.

Pound down some chicken breasts and salt and pepper them.  Cook 'em up and let them cool.

While the chicken's cooking, open up the can(s) of crushed tomato and add it into the onion soup.

Oh baby.

This is when your patience comes into play.  This needs to reduce significantly.  Until it's about 3/4 of it's original volume.  This was when I made my cupcakes.  But this is when you can boil your pasta!

I know, I'm a genius.

Get that water boilin' and once it is, slap some salt in there and throw in your pasta.  Preferably penne.

Mama mia!

Get that pasta all cooked and whatnot.  Al dente if you will.  Actually, it's probably best to undercook it slightly if you plan on baking this after it's all said and done (highly recommended).

This sauce took a good two hours to reduce.  If you make a smaller portion, the reduction time is reduced (ha!).  So keep stirring it and staring at it lovingly until it's thick and delicious.  Make sure you taste the sauce while it's reducing so it's perfect.  If it's not spicy enough just pop some more red pepper flakes in there.

Note how it's a lot thicker and there's less of it.  Evaporation: 1  Sauce: 0

If it's too acidic or tomato-y, slap some brown sugar in there.

If it's too sweet, throw some salt in the sauce.

If it's too red and regular looking, throw in some heavy cream.  Who does regular anymore? No one.  So be a nonconformist and throw in some heavy cream into your reduced tomato sauce.

You're going to want to put enough cream in there to make it a beautiful sunset orange.  Like something that you see on the paint samples at Home Depot.  I mean, it's not a color meant for a dining room accent wall or anything, but there's a certain orange hue you should aim for so you know you've made the best sauce known to mankind.

Pumpkin or sunset.  I'm not sure which is the better descriptor.

Take this sauce to make sure it's creamy and spicy and sweet and tomato-y and wonderful.  If you followed my damn instructions, you should have nailed it right on the head.  And just to make it that better, we're going to do a little imagining here.

Pretend that your sauce is an ocean.  A pumpkin-colored ocean with butter currents and pepper flake fish and onion seaweed.  Pretend for me, please.  Out of the depths of this ocean, a source of heat is creating something that we humans are not yet aware.  Out of this ocean forms an underground volcano.

And out of this volcano forms Parmesan Cheese Island.  The first of the islands in this untouched ocean.

Nature always creates perfection.

Stir that mountain of cheese in the sauce and it should taste divine.  I'm not kidding you.  Pure magic.

Once you've got your pot of magnificence ready, cube up that cooked chicken, mix it with the pasta and toss the sauce in there.

Be liberal with the sauce.  You want it all to be absorbed in the noodles and chicken.

If you want to go the extra mile, slap some mozzarella cheese on there and bake it.  Best dinner ever.  

Over the Top. Way, way, way over the top.

Sometimes, people have dreams.  And those dreams may or may not include making people incredibly happy with the magic of delicious food.  Oh baby.  

And luckily, stumbleupon gives me the most inspiration I will ever need.  And a few nights ago, when I stumbled on strawberries stuffed with cheesecake, I simply could not resist.

Strawberries are a powerful temptress in the fruit world.

Anywho, I saw this and I knew it was destiny.  Sweet, luscious destiny. 

Yeah I made that.  No big.

So if you're willing to read this without salivating to the point of drowning, then continue.  When I say that these little buggers are so good, people moan, this is not an exaggeration.

People will propose to you over these.  I'm not kidding, folks.

Here's how you do it.

Take some strawberries and hollow out the center.  Just take a knife and cut around the green part.  It should pop right out.

Then, in a bowl (or bread dish if you're out of bowls from making cupcakes earlier that day), mix together softened cream cheese, powdered sugar and vanilla.  Toss in a splash of whipping cream just to make it extra perfect.  As if that's even possible.

Drooling is an understatement at this point.

Pop the cheesecake into a bag and cut the tip off.  Pipe the stuff into the hollowed out strawberries.  

Moaning is socially acceptable at this point.  I completely understand, because I was.  

Come to Mama.

So once you've piped it all in and you top off each one so they look beautiful, pop these babies in the fridge while you prep the rest of your stuff.  Because we don't want errthang meltin'.

Take some graham crackers and put them in a sandwich bag.  You only need two crackers, tops.

Put the crackers on a cutting board, take a mallet and whoop the living crap out of them. 

The larger the mallet, the better.
[via foodtrotter]

Put those newly-formed graham cracker crumbs into a bowl.  While you're at it, take a small pan and throw some water in there.  Get it boiling.

Take the berries out of the fridge and dip each one into the bowl so the cheesecake is covered.  

I can't do this right now.

Put 'em back in the fridge.  Wipe off your tears of joy.  Look at the boiling pot of water, and place a heat-safe bowl over it.  Put some chocolate in the bowl.  Turn the heat down and stir.  STIR THE CHOCOLATE UNTIL IT MELTS.

You know what's about to happen.  You know that this is completely over the top.  You know that you want it.  Don't deny, you'll only be hurting yourself.

Dip them.  Dip the strawberries in the chocolate and put them in mini-muffin cups.

They look classy as hell and taste like heaven.

The perfect duo.

Oh sweet baby Jesus.  It's so beautiful.

These things are perfect.  They're perfect right out of the chocolate.  They're perfect when refrigerated overnight.  Oh baby.  I want to eat them all and it's possible.  

But I share.  My parents taught me well.

And when I brought some of them into work today, it was noticed.  People fell in love with me today.  And I was also noticed.

One of my coworkers asked me to cater for her.  She doesn't have time to cook some food for a grad party she's bringing food to.  So I'm getting paid to create four dozen rainbow cupcakes and chicken riggies.  

I think that blog post will be the best yet.  Think of a picture containing over 40 rainbow cupcakes in it.  Sensory overload.  I'll let you know how everything turns out.  Wish me luck!

R.O.Y.G.B--HOLY CRAP.

What a great weekend it has been.  I hung out with a friend that I rarely see on Saturday, then today I made some kickass cupcakes and attempted to throw a surprise party that ended up being a huge disaster.  Alas.

Facepalms were abundant today.
[via blackandteal]

Oh, and I watched the Fairly OddParents movie.  {I'm secretly a kid at heart}  Please don't judge.

So yesterday, I hung out with someone I never get to see anymore and it was awesome to catch up.  At the end of the day, we went to see a movie.  Horrible Bosses.  Perhaps you've heard of it?  Let me just say that I almost peed myself.  There are so many quotes from that movie, it's actually ridiculous.

Yes. Just yes.
[via wikimedia]

Seriously, go see it.  Prepare to laugh.  Because this movie is effing hysterical.

And fast-forward to today.  I made some chocolate cupcakes and had the best idea in the effing world for the frosting.  White is so boring.  And brown frosting looks like...well it looks like #2, folks.  And coloring them with one color is so ten years ago.

So why have one color, when you can have AS MANY AS THE UNIVERSE PLEASES?!

Oh yes, children.  I created rainbow frosted cupcakes.

Oh yes.  This is reality.

This may look hard, but by now, I have realized that some of the best things in life are the easiest to create.  And the tastiest.  God damn, I really pulled this off.

The frosting recipe is here.  It's pretty great - just a simple buttercream frosting.

So it was white to begin with.  But then if you're planning on making the divine rainbow, this is what you're going to want to do.

Take the buttercream frosting and split it into three equal sections.  Take food gel (not liquid dye) and put red in one, yellow in another, and blue in the last bowl.  Put as much in until you're content.

"Ooh, aah"

So, I'm a huge fan of the ghetto pastry bags, so I grabbed a gallon-sized bag.

"But Eve, they're only three colors.  How will you ever make a rainbow out of them?!"


Oh you.  Take a spoon.  And scoop a spoonful of the red.  Put it in the bag, pushing toward the corner you're planning on cutting.  Continue this with the different colors, making sure to grab different colors each time.  Try to make a sporadic pattern.  You're bag will look like the 1960s.  Just accept it.  Embrace it, even.

Outta sight!

Cut off the corner, and let the frosting do the work.  Frost the cupcakes like you normally would, and shazam! 


Rainbow.


Rainbow cupcakes. 


Rainbow cupcakes that put all cupcakes to shame.

Shame on you, other cupcakes.


They all look different and they are all equally magical.  Except when I started to run out of frosting.  The last few were actually pretty ugly.

Please forgive me.  

They taste delicious.  They look even more effing delicious.  I have a feeling that this is something I'm going to be making regularly.  For the rest of my life.  I recommend you do the same.