Dear Little Ones Up in MTV Realworld Penthouse for Bitchin' Babes:
How's baby heaven? Are you all behaving yourselves?
For this week's update, I thought I'd explain yet another thing about this godforsaken planet that you're fortunate to miss: Costco. Now, gather 'round and listen closely.
Costco is a huge-ass chain store where huge-ass people go in their huge-ass cars to push huge-ass shopping carts through huge-ass aisles stocked with huge-ass quantities of edibles and non-edibles. Need a roll of toilet paper? Too bad. At Costco, you're buying 30 packed together. Need a knifeful of mayonnaise for your deli sandwich? Too bad - you're buying a 3-gallon jug of mayo, so you'd better start brainstorming now for future uses. Supposedly it saves you money to buy in this manner - gigantic quantities for a lower cost per unit - but of course everyone's too exhausted and high on fluorescent lighting to actually whip out a goddamned calculator and do the math.
Among those goods was a gigantic, supposedly cheaper-than-the-small-size tub of peanutbutter - Adam's All-Natural, which I recently purchased on giddy, Costco-high impulse. You know: the kind in which the oil separates on top, and you have to stir to mix it with the hardened, dry peanutbutter-matter on the bottom.
What the fuck did I need a gallon-or-more of peanut butter for? Nothing. The point is that it was about eight cents cheaper per tablespoon than a regular-sized jar from Safeway, the mere idea of which was so tantalizing that my arms grabbed the jar off the shelf on their own and tossed it triumphantly into my Texas-sized shopping cart, practically without any conscious thought. I couldn't wait to get home and stir that shit up.
Normally, you can easily mix the oil in with a few stirs. But it turns out that with a super-human size jug of the stuff, normal mixing mechanisms don't work so well.
Now, Kevin - who was against purchasing such an obscenely large quantity of peanut butter from the beginning (but it's SUCH A GOOD DEAL, I assured him!), had his morning bread toasted and ready to get nutter-buttered. And you can believe it - I was most certainly getting the told-you-so look from across the kitchen. So I decided to take matters into my own hands, literally.
First, I dumped the oil and some of its peanutty accoutrements into a bowl.
Next, I took the plunge, fancying myself as a human-mixer and cursing Costco for false advertising. Nobody warned me it would come to this!
Tebow looked on with great interest, as you can imagine. And after a bit of elbow grease, it was finally ready to go.
Notice the separated oil, which I kept having to reincorporate. The whole process took about a half hour.
Finally, it resembled real peanut butter. And with a small amount of hesitation, Kevin proceeded to spread a wee bit of this well-mixed peanut goodness onto his toast. One tablespoon down; about nine hundred ninety-nine to go. Boo-ya!
NOTE: Zachary and your babe-alicious dead baby friends - as you can see, Costco has its drawbacks, but in the end can lead to good things. With this lifetime supply of peanut butter, there will be plenty left for me to drop some off at your doorstep on my way to grown-up heaven, whenever that journey takes place. Best of all, it will be mixed - so you can not only eat it, but sculpt things with it.