Hey there you slippery piles of human ooze! Stinky ole GW is on the scene to help y’all turn those nightmares into reality! Have you ever eaten a hamburger and thought ‘why do I have to go to a dumb restaurant for this? Surely there is some way that I can produce this delicious flesh on my own, in the solitude of my dank basement apartment that the upstairs neighbors are unaware I am occupying?’ Well, friends, wonder no more! I’ll give you all the knowhow necessary to spontaneously create life, which you can then immediately extinguish and put in a sandwich.
Materials List:
Fifty gallon stainless steel drum
Bovine fetuses (You can get these from Hal, down the block)
Defiance of God’s Will
Let’s get to it, shall we?
Go to your local Video Store, and demand everything that has ever had even an oblique reference to Frankenstein in it.
Purchase a large volume of disgusting snacks. An example is any chip flavor that sounds impossible, such as Lay’s “Cappuccino”. Lay’s complete disregard for both consumer taste and business sense will be important to emulate when creating your meat empire.
Consume the snacks and dozens of hours of Frankenstein-related entertainment. This will allow you to avoid obvious mistakes Dr. Frankenstein made, such as having a mustache.
Place the fetuses in the steel drum, and fill it to the brim with Growth Serum (you can get this at Evil CVS, distinguishable from Regular CVS in that it is staffed by ghosts).
Place the drum outside, in the middle of your yard, far away from meddlesome trees and telephone poles.
Collect all of the scrap metal laying about your house, and construct it into a crude hat.
Affix the hat to your head, and clamber onto the top of the drum.
Wait for a storm.
Raising your arms into the air, scream into the firmament: “Oh Gaia, god of the earth, endow unto thee your great gift of life!”
You will be struck by lightning, and it will course through you and your dastardly mixture.
Wake up some hours later to see the drum entirely empty.
Flip on the television. You shouldn’t need to switch to a specific channel; your creation should be garnering wall-to-wall coverage.
Slack-jawed, take in the news reports that your 30-foot tall Cow Monster, in a murderous rage, has destroyed all of the burger joints in town.
Smile, knowing that Cow Monster’s business acumen has created a vacuum in the market, allowing your nascent burger empire to thrive.
Cow Monster, essentially impervious to puny human weaponry, will retreat to the deep forest, its mission complete.
Every now and then, you will hear a deep moan emanating from the hills. It’s Cow Monster’s lonely cry. After all, you did not craft him a suitable mate.
Know that, while important Cow Monster-related work remains, you have both done your part to take down Big Meat.
Enjoying a glass of sherry, make a mental note to maybe use slightly less Growth Serum next time.
Howdy ho there how-to friends! Have you had it up to “here” with the seemingly eternal winter us non-equator livers must endure? Have you, instead of calmly putting on your coat in the morning, started to pick it up with your mouth and mash it between your teeth as a rudimentary form of retribution? Well, dear friend, if you are reading this, your troubles may be over. As long as you have a basic knowledge of witchcraft, abruptly switching the rotation of the earth should be a snap.
You’ll need:
11 Gillyflowers (hit up your local Shaman’s office for these)
A Bag of Accumulated Lint (Belly-button works just fine)
A Close Friend Who Trusts You Too Much
Let’s get to it!
Drive to a remote part of town, ideally somewhere where everyone is super into halloween.
Strike up a fire, and place your ingredients into your cauldron.
Wait until the contents have begun to bubble and emit an evil glow.
Smell the mixture; you will know it is ready for the next step if it smells like the inside of a wet sock.
Smiling wildly, ask your Good Friend to “go ahead, give it a sniff!”, and give them an encouraging pat on the back to entice them to walk up to the edge of the cauldron.
Once they have their unsuspecting face inches away from the mixture, throw them into the pot.
Satisfied with the human sacrifice, the mixture will rise out from the pot in a formless mass.
The mass will slowly become a shimmering portal, several feet wide.
The portal will shriek violently as it rends space-time in two, sending a burst of light and a minor shockwave through town.
Startled, you will awaken a few moments later, possibly without any more hair.
An 11-foot tall, silly, cartoon-like dinosaur will be standing over you, wearing ridiculous robes with crudely drawn planets and stars on them. It will greet you warmly.
“Oh gosh, friend, I didn’t mean to startle you!” the dinosaur will say, helping you to your feet with an adorable claw, “I didn’t mean to kick up such a fuss. I’m Gerald! And I can certainly help you with those winter blues!”
The friendly beast will then close its eyes and wave its magic wand, causing it to instantly become spring.
Apparently pleased with itself, the dinosaur will ask you if you need anything else.
“Can you bring my friend back? I feel I may have made a terrible mistake,”
“Well, of course!” the friendly dinosaur will answer, and wave his wand again.
With another blast of light, your friend will appear several feet away, shivering and covered in ectoplasm.
“My work here is done!” the dinosaur will exclaim. “Oh, one little thing. Your friend may be attracted to toads now. That’s a little bug I haven’t worked out yet.”
After waving its wand again, the interdimensional creature will vanish with a goofy popping sound.
Your friend may not be down for brunch for a few weeks.
Hello there you salty dogs! Big ole smelly GW is on the scene to make sure that you are preparing your souffles with the utmost care. Rule #1 of souffle making is: If that villainous traitor Art Ester tells you how to make it, do the exact opposite. He is always busy at work plotting nefarious ways to lure excitable how-toers into making explosive souffles. And we’re not doing that here. Not unless you’re going to feed it to that scalawag Ester. Then I fully support it.
Ingredients List:
11 eggs (If you cannot find chicken eggs, dinosaur ones will suffice)
14 screaming lizards (You must induce the screaming; rough tickling usually does the trick)
A Bag of Bees (This can be purchased at your local Bee Shop)
Let’s get baking!
Quit your job. You’ll need to clear your calendar to bake a souffle, as they are extremely complicated and require your total attention.
End all of your relationships with humans. They are needy and may call or text you at one point during your souffle-making, ruining your progress.
Once you have severed all ties to humankind, you are ready to get started! Our first task will be to construct Souffle Gloves. Your hands are far too primitive to handle something as precious as a souffle; it would simply fall to dust if you tried to make it with your clumsy meat-knobs.
To make Souffle Gloves, simply form three foot lengths of wire into long loops, one for each of your fingers. Then stretch Pterodactyl skin over the loops. Pterodactyl skin is pliable, and its ancient power will intimidate the souffle into letting you control it.
Once you have your Gloves fastened to your skin, crack eight eggs into a bowl.
Whisk the eggs vigorously. You may use your terrifying new Glove-Fingers for this task.
The Gloves will render your hands useless for anything other than souffle-making, but swiftly learning necessary new foot skills will be super handy in impressing peers at fancy dress parties.
After adding sugar, flour, and salt, place in a casserole and bake for 25 minutes on 375 degrees.
Gloat whenever someone invites you to a party, constantly reminding others that, “oh yes, I constructed a souffle last Thursday. That is why I cannot make proper use of my hands”.
They will not take this evidence as a fair argument as to why you persist in wearing your Souffle Gloves at all times, and may start refusing to accompany you on important “team tasks”, such as ingredient gathering and bathroom.
Hello there friends! Welcome to another exciting how-to, taking place in my very own basement lab. No one has yet seen what I do down here, and that’s a relief! If they did, they would never, ever, ever be able to forget what they saw. My dreams are haunted every night by the horrors that are my creations. On that note, let’s mix a fun drink for New Year’s eve! We can’t be hanging around strangers without being staggeringly drunk.
Materials List
2 liters of vodka
Fourteen lemons
Sugar
A child who is not your own
Let’s get mixing!
Start by zesting the lemons, placing all of the zest in one big bowl. Double check that the bowl is free of any stray organs or live abominations from previous experiments.
Avoid drinking all of the vodka now while you prep the drinks. You will need to save a little for the drinks themselves. Although you do deserve a sip, don’t you? After all, you’re the one putting in all the work here. What’s everyone else doing? Just sitting there on your nice couch, jabbering away.
Pull out your martini glasses. If you do not have martini glasses, anything watertight will do.* *Consider putting the drinks in water balloons, if you have some handy. This will give your guests more of a challenge, and make them really prove their worth to you as friends. If they can successfully drink their balloon before it punctures and ruins your couch, they can continue to enjoy your presence.
After each guest attempts to drink their drink, line them up in order of worthiness.
Castigate the failures, screaming, “You’re not my friends! How can you be? I am only friends with winners, which you decidedly are not. Who are you all, really????” and demand all of the imposters remove their disguises.
Help them remove their disguises if they pretend to be confused. They may resist.
Curse yourself for not identifying the spies earlier.
There are too many of them; the only option now is to flee.
After loudly proclaiming that you ate a large amount of cheese, slink into the bathroom.
If the bathroom has a window, climb out.
Jump to safety. If you are higher than a couple of stories, try to locate a giant marshmallow to cushion your fall. If there are no giant marshmallows, just remember the Golden Rule: “Don’t Jump Onto Spikes!” They will likely hurt you.
Hey there ya limp yella-bellied scoundrels! Dirty ole GW is here to fill your tiny brains full’a how to know-how. Just be careful not to fill ‘em too fast. That lil brain might just tire itself out. If you can, read only one or two sentences every hour. Don’t pretend that you have anywhere to be. Anyhoo, I’m here to give you babies a crash course in how to make it through those winter months, when food is scarce and potential mates are hiding in freshly fallen snow drifts, making them more difficult to locate by smell.
You’ll need:
Snowshoes
Liquor
Homemade armor
Let’s get to it!
You’ll have to fashion armor to fend off incoming hordes who will try to invade your domicile in order to get at your soft, warm innards, the primary ingredient in “holiday soup.”
Start by collecting as many nails as you can. If you only have one or two, that’s fine, but you will most likely die as a result.
Once you have the nails, put them in a bucket and set them aside.
Grab any steel plating you have handy, and bang it into “armor” shapes.
If you’re unsure of the ideal shape, just go nuts! The more misshapen your armor is, the more intimidating you will be to would-be attackers. Ideally you should look as if you have scavenged your entire set off of a slew of vanquished enemies.
Tape or glue any fun flair items to your armor. These can include cotton balls, glitter, or blood.
Once your armor is sufficiently hideous, be sure to check on Craig next door. Ideally you can peer out a small corner of your blinds to complete this step.
Craig will already be at his window, peering back menacingly. He will seem none too pleased with your apparent armor-fashioning, as he is determined to get at your delicious insides.
The only way to stop him now is to challenge him to a Winter-Off, a decathlon of sorts consisting of winter activities.
Outfox him in the candle lighting, hot chocolate drinking, and cuddling competitions, taking the top prize.
Gloat in your victory, holding your trophy aloft, exclaiming, “No holiday soup this year, eh, Craig?”
He will shoot an arrow at you for the outburst.
Evading the arrow, scuttle back home to safety.
Hey there ya load of silly saps! I’m sure you are all wondering “Where is all the pumpkin beer? Is it not still fall?” And I am here to tell you, THE OLIGARCHS THAT CONTROL THE ECONOMY HAVE UNCEREMONIOUSLY RIPPED IT FROM THE SHELVES. The corporate entity surrounding Halloween distribution has decided that we can only consume pumpkin beer, THE BEST KIND OF BEER, only in a three week period in October. We must rise up and declare this to be UTTER HORSESHIT. Here is a recipe for you to brew your favorite squash-based concoction right in your own, filthy home.
Materials List:
12 large pumpkins
A sturdy bottling contraption
A smoldering rage at institutions
Let’s get brewing!
First, you’ll want to convince your wife/partner that this is indeed a worthwhile undertaking. This can be done by arguing with them at length about why pumpkin beer is actually highly profitable, and healthy, because it is mostly vegetables.
After a prolonged shouting match, head down to your bottling setup. This is ideally any space that is unused, dank, and filled with spiders.
Firm up an agreement with the spiders that you will be borrowing their space for a bit. You many have to concede the corners of the room to them for their garbage-filled-webs.
To begin brewing, place the pumpkins in a tub or vat. Then mercilessly hit them with whatever you have within your arm’s reach.
Once the pumpkins are beaten to a satisfying pulp, transfer them to a mixing bowl.
Toss in your favorite beer spices.
If you are not familiar with beer spices, simply add whatever bibs and bobs are around. They will, most likely, taste like something.
Once the mixture is set, affix it to your face like a mask.
The mixture will slowly absorb your face’s nutrients, resulting in a more sophisticated flavor.
Scrape it off into a tub.
Fill the tub with yeast and water.
Leave your home for 3-5 years.
The mixture, having matured, will invite you in, gesturing with its hideous foam-limbs.
Listen to its evil fables, imbuing you with malevolent energy.
Happily burn down the town.
Hello there, ya useless hunks of jelly-meat! But mostly jelly. I know how jelly-filled my own readers are. You pathetic sullen humps of goop. It is time for my column yet again, so you can take precious minutes away from the gaping chasm of anguish that is your daily life. Take solace that I can siphon some precious seconds away from your sickeningly boring existence to discuss the art of writing. In this case, novels.
You’ll need:
Paper
Pen
Fish-heads (more than you would think)
Allow me to ignite your fetid neurons to the finer points of book-crafting.
Think of all of the people you hate, and make a list of them.
Try to name some people that you like.
Okay, I know that’s hard for you. How about some people that you think are merely ok?
You can’t put down yourself. Just try to think of one person you might not hate.
I know this is a real doozy of an assignment. You probably haven’t talked to a person in years.
That should help you write; lack of a social life is crucial.
Once you feel devoid of kinship toward any living human being, buy a house in the hills somewhere. Can also be in the “boonies” or in the “sticks”.
Plant rotten-fish lined traps around the perimeter of your house.
Barricade yourself inside the house using chairs and a heavy chifforobe or two, and remove all possible distractions; writing is miserable and your body will try to avoid it at all costs.
Sit down at your desk.
Well, you should probably have a couple more pens. I mean, you can’t write with just one pen!
You should probably get a snack now, while you are up for the pen. I mean, that’s just more efficient.
Upon searching for a snack, discover how unorganized the fridge is. You can’t write a novel with the fridge in such disarray!
Spend more time than you ever have in your entire life cleaning and organizing the fridge.
Conjuring up interest in forgotten pickles, arrange around a dozen slowly but artfully on a plate.
Feeling quite accomplished, return to your work station.
Taking care to eat a bite of pickle now and then to keep up your strength, begin writing in earnest.
Pour your soul onto the page. Wow, you really are something. You could be a modern Hemingway. Who’s to say you aren’t?
Write longer than you ever dreamed you could have, exhausting every reserve of exposition, drama, and wit.
Do a lap around the room, basking in your vast achievement.
Hear an odd scratching sound when circling past the window.
Looking out, discover that several hundred cats have descended on your fish-traps, their low weight failing to set off the traps’ mechanisms.
Observe dejectedly as the cat horde slowly dismantles your defenses.
Settle in for the night, reading only by candlelight and making as little noise as possible.
Awaken to numerous cats lying on top of, and all around, your face.
Wonder aloud if this is simply what happens to all writers of great works.
Standing up slowly, survey several dozen cats snoozing on various surfaces.
Some portion of the cats will likely awaken at your standing.
They will demand breakfast.
After sating the crowd with the remainder of your fish heads, return to your novel, confident of at least twenty pages in the bank.
Upon realizing that you had only completed 2 and a half pages earlier, inform the cats that they are in charge for the moment and that you will be returning with whiskey.
The most important step in going to the beach is deciding that you are going to the beach. This is the most difficult, because it is generally a bad idea.
Note: Beaches are covered in garbage and seabirds that want you dead so they can devour you whole.
Here’s what you need:
A beach chair
A beach "ball" (any vaguely round object will do)
A very proud but misinformed sense of how your body looks to others
Let’s get ready for that once in a lifetime tan!
Put enough sunscreen on so that everyone who walks by you gasps.
Take note of the “gaspers”, as they will now be known.
I’m just joking, those people don’t matter. They may as well not exist.
But you exist. You are very important. You must be. You are going to the beach, after all. Only important people can do that.
Remember to grab some fresh meat that you can lay out to dry at the beach.*
Grab a few beers from your local hardware store. I don’t care if they don’t sell beer. That’s your problem, not mine.
If they do sell beer, ask them how they expect you to do any work on your house while drunk.
The owner of the store will assure you that he personally does most of his home improvement projects while drunk.
Beer in hand, head for the sandy shores.
Take a meandering route, and enjoy the scenery. After all, you don’t go to the beach very often! This is your chance to really get after it, sightseeing wise.
Amidst your meandering, suddenly become powerfully convinced that you cannot possibly allow yourself to be seen without a shirt, and wonder why you ever thought even for a moment that that would work out ok.
Head to a "Big n' Tall" clothing store, and select a garment that will cover your hideous epidermis many times over.
Your oversize shirt can also handily double as a shelter, or sail, in a pinch.
Once at the beach, prance onto the sands. Remember, you are likely the most important person there. And because of your sail-blouse, your disgusting, scab covered chest is a secret for only you to know about. Although onlookers may guess at it because of your prolonged, frenzied bouts of scratching.
Once you have set your meat out for drying, casually and occasionally exclaim to others around your towel that "Wow I wish there was some dry meat around me! I wonder where I may be able to get some? I sure do have a mean hankering for some."
Your meat may attract a large number of vicious seabirds.
Scare them off by simply running in a circle, flapping your arms wildly, and screaming "My meat, Caw, caw caw! My meat!".
This will scare the seabirds off and most beachgoers within a 50 foot radius.
This may seem counterproductive, but I assure you it is not. The empty space will simply reinforce to others how important you are. For example, you cannot get within 200 feet of Tom Cruise without spontaneously lighting on fire.
It is now time to choose a mate. This can be done by casually walking near an arousing prospect, and dropping some of your fresh-dried meat near them.
Then say "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drop this meat in your vicinity. It is very valuable meat, and my dropping it was a mistake. I must return now to my camp, where there is an even wider array of precious steaks."
Walk back to your towel, and let the suitors line up.
Call each of them over, so you can check their teeth. Your winner should have at least several.
*Tip: you should do all your meat-drying at the beach.
Missing items from around your home? It's because that jackal Art Ester has been slowly pilfering them night after night. How do you stop him? No one has yet solved that riddle. All we can do is lock our doors and sleep with one eye open. If you do happen upon his hooded, bent figure one moonless night, be sure not to startle him. Legends tell those that do meet a grisly end.
But we're not here to talk about that, you sorry bag of skin! I am often asked 'How do I train lions?' followed by 'Can a lion be trained against its will to perform at my birthday party?' Fortunately for us, the answer to both those questions is absolutely yes.
You'll need:
- A big ole chair
- A whip
- Frequent, severe lapses in judgement
Let's get that lion of yours trained.
- Fill a barrel with Grade A honey.
- Roll around in the barrel until you are completely covered in the sticky stuff.
- Open the lion's cage.
- The lion will set upon you.
- Evade it.
- Realize that the lion probably gets the gist of how he should host the birthday party.
- Confirm the date of your party with the lion. It will record your appointment in its day planner.
Hey there how-toers! If you're anything like me, you've spent the past 8 months of winter locked in a tiny room, shrieking at the walls. If you're also like me, you are quite ready for a stiff drink at any hour of the day. Here's the recipe for the Dramatic Dragon, a drink I learned to mix while hiding out in Tibet on the run from Chinese authorities.
Materials list:
- 2 gallons Creme de menthe
- Several bottles of Baijiu (a chinese spirit)
- Chinese Spirits (the ghost kind)
Let's get mixin'!
- Start drinking the Creme de menthe. Quicker than that!
- Invite a group of friends over to your home.
- Demand everyone come prepared with a ghost story.
- Make sure Donny comes this time, even if he protests at first. He'll come around.
- Gather everyone around a fire pit, and instruct them to recount their scariest ghost story.
- Interrupt just as the first person starts sharing, screaming, "Too scary, too scary! I said not too scary!", and flee the room, hiding in a bathroom upstairs.
- Hide in the bathroom for several minutes, before realizing being in the bathroom alone is pretty scary.
- Run from the bathroom, being sure to look behind you when escaping to make sure monsters aren't trying to grab your feet.
- Curse yourself for not turning all of the lights on in the house before everyone came over.
- Rejoin the group with a guilty but cool smile, casually remarking, "Ghost stories can get intense, huh? Anybody need another beer, red pepper dip, anything? I'll get the cocktails started, then we can get into some cards against humanity, ok?"
- Pop into the kitchen, and get your large mixing bowl.
- Do you have a large mixing bowl? I think you do. There's gotta be something like a large mixing bowl in here.
- Rummage around unsuccessfully for 10 minutes or so, confirming your fears.
- Empty a bag of chips, you can mix the drinks in there! It'll be more of a "mixing bag", but I think the basic physics of the thing work out.
- Quickly discover that the basic physics of the "mixing bag" do not, indeed, work out.
- Return to the circle with a large bottle of Baijiu, and pass it around, explaining in an irritating tone, "This is a famous Chinese spirit. It's really good. It's actually the most drunk spirit on earth, in terms of volume, if you cared to know."
- Discover that everybody didn't care to know.
- When the bottle comes around to you again, take a big enough swig so that you feel like you are being courageous but not so much that everyone thinks you're a drunk.
- Take too big of a swig, and splutter Baijiu all over your feet and the floor.
Now I know y'all have missed me over the past couple months. I've been away on business, which is to say that it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS WHERE I WAS! Absolutely none. And If I find out you simple minded boobs have been inquiring as to what activities I have been engaging in, you will find yourselves on the business end of Winston's right boot. Not a place you want to be, unless you are that car window last week. That one bled ole booty mightily. But let's not make this about me. I know you clods will listen to every word I say, so listen good. This here's the only recipe for soup you'll ever need.
Materials list:
- Chicken Stock
- Flour
- A Great Inner Sickness
Well, let's create some soup, now why don't we.
- Get out your largest soup pan, and set one quart of chicken stock and one quart of water to a rollicking boil.
- After it reaches a boil, turn down the heat and add oregano and rosemary.
- Catch your reflection in the window, taking note of how old and frail you look.
- Lament on the many mistakes of your life, staring out the window for as long as it takes to reconcile all of life's many missed opportunities.
- Add some celery and potatoes to the stock.
- Was that the doorbell?
- Better go check, just in case you missed somebody.
- Get to the door, and discover no one there.
- Once the celery and potatoes have softened up, add in two pounds of previously boiled chicken, and salt and pepper the soup liberally.
- While the chicken soaks in the flavor of the broth, wander upstairs to where your pet mouse, Henry, lives.
- Take Henry out of his cage and stroke his back gently, basking in how delicate life can be.
- Ask Henry if "Henry loves his daddy, doesn't he? Not like the mean people. Not like them!"
- Go check on the soup, it should be done! Add tiny noodles if you like.
- Plate your soup, adding a little garnish of parsley to spice up the presentation.
- Henry might like some soup, now wouldn't he?
- Once Henry has answered in the affirmative, find a mouse-sized soup vessel somewhere.
- You don't have mouse-sized soup vessels? How odd, and frankly, irresponsible of you.
- Discover that you can simply feed him his soup off a small spoon.
- Once Henry has finished his meal, give him a tiny kiss on his filthy mouse head.
- After washing the dishes, eat an entire pint of ice cream while standing up.
You'll need a bunch of stuff for this, so hang on to your hats.
Materials:
- A hat
- Something to hold onto
Let's get it going!
- Put a pint of gin in a large suitcase.
- Construct an elaborate cover story and disguise so that you can sneak into a Moroccan Embassy. It doesn't matter which Moroccan embassy.
- Once inside, be sure to only use your Moroccan accent that you have been practicing.
- Inquire as to where the bathroom is, and enter a stall.
- Retrieve the pint of gin, and down its contents as fast as possible.
- You will be violently drunk.
- Exit the bathroom, and stumble around the halls of the embassy, indiscriminately breaking important looking artwork.
- With your crucial work finished, retire unsuccessfully on a couch outside the Moroccan ambassador's office, ending up mostly on the floor.
- After several minutes, you will be awakened rudely and summoned into the ambassador's office.
- Once inside, blearily muddle through your cover story, mixing up a bunch of your facts and wholly failing to convince the ambassador of your fake identity.
- The ambassador will look at you harshly for several seconds.
- Return the ambassador's gaze, betraying your inner turmoil.
- After 15 seconds or so, at the height of the tension, the ambassador will break out laughing.
- Laugh heartily with him, slapping your knee if necessary.
- You will be thrown into a secret prison on a 30-year sentence for infiltrating an embassy and throwing up on priceless artifacts.
- During your lengthy descent into madness in prison, become convinced for several days that you are an immortal demi-god sent through time to save humanity from destruction by invisible flying mini-dinosaurs.
- Resolve to use your supernatural powers to escape the prison.
- Tracking the prison guards' movements, eventually etch a complex diagram of the prison's security on the underside of your bed using only your teeth.
- When a guard enters your cell to clean, bludgeon them over the head with hardened poop you have been storing in a secret compartment.
- Put the guard's clothes on, and say guard things like "Quiet down in there!" and "Carry on, Gentlemen!" to prisoners' cells you pass.
- Continue to do this until you are outside of the prison.
- Wander into a quaint house on the outskirts of town.
- Introduce yourself to the lady of the house only as "a patriot", and arrange to stay in her barn for a few dollars a week.
- Slowly integrate yourself into daily town life, stopping by the local bakery for a morning coffee and bagel and going to the early bird mass on Sundays.
- Initiate a romance with a young woman who works at the local diner by saying cute things like, "I'd split this pie with you if you weren't on your shift."
- Keep the relationship interesting by occasionally, casually alluding to some deep internal sadness. This is easily done by solemnly looking off into the distance at night, and muttering something that she can't quite hear before assuring her that "I'm fine. Just thinking about this crazy, big old, mixed up world of ours."
Hey there you useless piles of rat excrement, big ole honkin' GW here to set you straight on that murderous cretin that is Art Ester. If you ever get close enough to smell him, just know you will likely be killed by the sheer force of his musk. Some say his mere presence can melt the paint right off your walls.
Without further ado, let's get into making that most fashionable of pies, the Potato.
You'll need:
- Forms
- Letters of Recommendation
- Terrified critters (small critters, please)
OK then, let's get this show on the road, you hairless group of rabble.
- Ensure there are no plots to assassinate you.
- This can be done by going undercover in your local Murder Guild.
- After you gain the trust of a senior Guild Member, inquire as to if your crew will be murdering anyone fitting your description.
- If they are, ensure that you have your affairs in order.
- If you don't have any affairs, you're all set.
- Construct a crude facsimile of yourself, involving large amounts of Elmer's Glue and cardboard.
- Whilst all your fellow Guild members are watching, stand at the top of the town hall with your facsimile, and proclaim how much you are enjoying the view from the top of said town hall.
- With great drama, and after dousing it with pasta sauce, throw your facsimile off of the roof, screaming as it falls.
- With everyone fooled, you will be free to flee the town by rail, jumping onto a steam train as it departs town.
- Steal some of the train's members top hats. This will be a cinch, as almost everyone will be wearing one.
- Take the steam train to a tiny hamlet, and rent a bed at the local inn.
- Acquiesce when the innkeeper's daughter asks you if you could help her make pie.
- Gently flirt with her while helping with the pie.
- Her father may notice. If he does, he will challenge you to a Trial by Combat.
- Let's just say you should have a sword by this point.
- Ah shoot. I probably should have mentioned the sword sooner.
- Welp, .....as long as you know karate, you should be OK.
- Karate actually won't be much help against swords. I owe you one, ok?
Part 1077 in a long running series
Howdy hi there how-toers! If your senselessly dull winter has been going anything like mine, you have tried leaping out of your second story window, only to be thwarted by a double layer of tempered glass. Even as I write this, my left foot has been tugging towards the window in short fits, subconsciously begging for another attempt. But that's old news, at least to my head, which is in towering pain.
Our task today involves my latest elixir for those January blues. How did I come by this recipe? Let's just say it involved more than one ghost, and they were none too pleased when I filched it off them.
You'll need:
- Enough mayo so you cannot carry It comfortably
- A quartet of angry mayors
- Wild abandon
Let's get to it!
- Lie to your partner, assuring them that 'You'll be back in a jif'.
- Stalk your local used car salesman, staking them out if necessary.
- Once you've memorized their daily patterns, hide out inside of their office overnight.
- Steal the keys to a Dodge Ram 3500 pickup, and peel out of the lot, going as fast as you can.
- Locate your first mayor, parking far enough away to avoid suspicion.
- Place a rare steak outside the entrance to his home, and balance a bucket full of syrup above their doorway.
- The mayor will smell the steak and investigate, tripping the trap and becoming soaked in syrup.
- The mayor, covered in syrup, will become docile.
- After binding their ankles and wrists, toss them in the back of the pickup.
- Avoid the urge to go back and save the rest of the syrup. I know it cost you a month's salary.
- Pick up three more mayors using the same steak-syrup technique.
- The mayors have likely become quite irritated now, as they will have attracted an impressive array of sweet-seeking insects.
- Place each mayor in their own 55 gallon tub of industrial mayonnaise that you picked up from your local mayo plant earlier.
- It is a well known fact that mayo is breathable. The mayors will be fine in their tubs until they are ready.
- Set the mayors in a secure location where delinquent teenagers are unlikely to investigate. If you place a sign labeled 'Lame Stuff in Here', you can ensure your mayors are undisturbed by curious pot-smokers.
- Leave the mayors in their tubs for 4-7 years, or until news coverage of their mysterious dissapearances has died down a bit.
- Go check on the ole mayors.
- They will have finished their mayo, each turning an odd color based on their exclusive mayo consumption.
- Release them back into the wild, saying 'Go on you old scamps! Go On! Get out of here!"
- They, struggling for breath and with their atrophied limbs, will look back at you with a mixture of horror and confusion.
- You have no fear of litigation, as the mayors will not have the communication or social skills at this point to pass on details of your misdeeds.
- The mayors will live out their days stealing eggs from chicken coops and sleeping in caves, forming a rudimentary language and community.
- Their remains, when found years later, will be mistaken for some newly discovered modern neolithic race.
Note: This recipe is not for those of you with heart conditions, or those involved in protracted legal disputes. It's for those who are looking for a walk on the wild side, a flight of fancy, a dance with the devil. But don't be fooled; just because you drove your car 180 mph once on the highway doesn't mean you can handle this cocktail. Drinking this is a last resort of sorts.
Let's get to mixin'! You best get one or two of these down the ole manhole before you enter into any kind of New Year's merriment.
You'll need:
- A liter of gin
- 2 sprigs elderflower
- crushed ice
- Immense shame
Let's get to the libation!
- Put the ice in a blender.
- Take it out; you forgot to bless it.
- Bless the ice, using only your good Blessing Hand.
- If you do not know how to Bless, consult your Blessing Handbook.
- If you cannot find a Blessing Handbook, write your own.
- Bless the ice.
- Immediately throw the ice in the trash. Chances are, you blessed it incorrectly.
- Pour the gin in tall rocks glass, and set it in a high chair.
- Treat it as you would your own small child.
- OPTIONAL: Put a little diaper on it and speak to it in baby talk.
- If the gin has begun to cry, try waving some giant baby keys in front of it.
- That should settle it down.
- Call your closest friend, and tell them that you actually slept with their wife back in college.
- Respond to their angry outburst with silence.
- That's a relief.
- Settle down in the middle of the room, on the floor somewhere.
- Stay there until it seems reasonably safe to move, no less than a week or so.
Hey there my fellow Christmas lovers! Art Ester here to help you spread that holiday cheer around as evenly as possible. You don't want large clumps forming in certain spots. That can lead to Cheer Overload, which may result in death. Always remember the goal of all this: More Christmas Cheer = More Presents For Me.
You'll need:
- Holly branches
- Baubles
- Considerably More Self Respect.
Let's get this thing started!
- Place the holly around the outside of your home, in places where it will be most visible to passersby.
- Do the same with some oversize holiday baubles. Extra points if they are shiny!
- While putting up the last bauble, descend into a deep and seemingly infinite moment of sadness.
- Standing on the ladder, stare off into the distance, still holding the final bauble.
- Your partner will emerge from your home. "Honey, are you almost done with the decorations? It's nearly 3 AM." You, lost in thought, will not hear them.
- Still staring, drop the final bauble, letting it crash on the pavement below.
- Tell your partner you have to go, right now.
- Driving way too fast, go to the old movie theatre parking lot where you smoked weed with your high school friends when you were in college.
- Turn off your engine, and sit in silence, letting nostalgia fill you.
- When your partner attempts to call you, do not pick up.
- Turn the engine back on, and drive to the first place you can think of.
- Run out of gas on your way there.
- Walking to the nearest gas station, stumble across an old barn.
- Decide that you must enter the barn.
- Sit in the barn for a while, noting the smell of the hay.
- Go to sleep for 6-12 hours.
- Awaken to an angry farmer prodding you with a pitchfork. "Buddy, I darn near killed you. What are you doin' in my barn?"
- Explain that you were putting up christmas decorations.
- The farmer will immediately understand.
Howdy there ya useless lumps of dessicated flesh! Big ole GW here to get the record set straight on pies. Now I get this question all the time: Aren't pies what killed my grandmother? Nope - that was brain cancer and diabetes. Although the pies may have helped the diabetes along. So the answer to that is more of a soft 'maybe'. Anyhoo, I know it can be hard to remember what a pie is. A pie is a large aircraft, often carrying a nuclear payload----hang on, I may have my notes shuffled up......never mind that is correct.
Materials list:
- Flour (enough to cover a mammal with)
- Eggs (4 or 5 or 2 or 7 of them will do)
- A University Course Catalog (NOT a college! THERE'S A DIFFERENCE!)
Okay, let's get to it!
- Clear out your kitchen; you'll need space to work.
- Dirty it back up again, you don't want it to be too clean. That puts some people off.
- You'll want to strike a balance somewhere between 'FBI safehouse', and 'Hoarder'.
- You may want to watch some TV shows to get a sense of what those two extremes are.
- There's plenty of time for pie-making after TV.
- Oh, we'll need snacks for TV!
- What's in the pantry......nuts? Too healthy. Pop-Tarts? We're not that desperate.
- Go across the street to the corner store to find some better snacks.
- Find some of those awesome chocolate chip cookies. Yes! those ones.
- Become irritated that they do not have a price sticker on them but decide to go for it anyway.
- Discover at the register that they are $7 and unleash a string of obscenities at the clerk and the general area.
- Purchase the cookies anyway, but let everyone know you aren't at all happy about it.
- Return home, and take all of the ingredients out of the cupboard.
- Measure the flour, and crack the eggs into a large blender. Crack a few more eggs into a laundry basket.
- Once you have your clothes off, dive into that laundry basket. Roll around inside it until you are more or less covered in egg.
- Fill another laundry basket with flour, and repeat step 15.
- Turn the heat in your home up as far as it will go, and sit in the warmest part of your house for 2-3 hours or until golden brown.
- Hide and wait for your partner to come home.
- When they investigate the source of the smell, jump out from whatever you are hiding behind and exclaim,"Dinner's ready! Boogelyboogelyboogely bo!"
- They will kick you instinctively.
- Calmly explain to them that it is you and that you have merely been spending all day cooking yourself for dinner.
- She may bring up your lack of job applying lately.
- Say "Oh, here we go again!" in as passive-aggressive a tone as possible.
- Ask her, even more passive-aggressively, "who was the one slaving away all day at the stove, hmmmmm?"
- Serve yourself before you get too cool.
As October comes to an end, we pack up our t-shirts and swim trunks, bust out the woolly sweaters, and of course, begin work on our fallout shelters! Now this recipe isn't for your bargain basement version, so if you're a corner cutter, just stop reading right here. You'll be proud to show off this shelter to your loved ones knowing it will offer them at least minimal protection from whatever monstrous irradiated beasts await them in the earth's barren wastes.
Materials list:
- 36,000 cans of beans
- Two dozen industrial fans
- A remarkably high tolerance for heavy fumes
Experts agree that the most critical consideration when constructing a fallout shelter is Gas Management. You and your loved ones will be eating only canned beans for up to 50 years. This will lead to a large buildup of combustible gas, which, if contained, can be used for all manner of applications. Let's get to it.
- Get your family in a room for a frank discussion. Surprise your youngest daughter by asking her to lead the meeting.
- She will ask why ice cream is not served as dinner more often.
- Suggest that this, while a valid concern, may be better discussed at a future meeting.
- Guide the discussion towards fallout shelters.
- When your wife brings up the fact that you already have a fallout shelter, pretend that you didn't hear her.
- Look at your watch and remark "Why look at the time!" and abruptly end the meeting.
- When your daughter brings up the fact that you don't own a watch, pretend you didn't hear her.
- Escape to your fallout shelter, which has been converted primarily to a video game haven.
- Play for several days, or until you forget other things exist, ignoring pleas from your family to reappear.
- Discover that Gas Management is indeed critical down here.
- Emerge after a week or so to find the house empty.
- It must have been the apocalypse! Oh wait, there's a note.
- Something about 'I'm taking the kids, you idiot'.
- Sob, shaking, for several hours, as the full weight of your actions becomes increasingly clear.
- Might as well clear out the liquor cabinet.
- Sleep in the driveway.
- Awaken, sunburnt and extremely dehydrated.
- Call your ex unsuccessfully 10-15 times, again sobbing.
- After filling her voicemail with incomprehensible babble, slump into a half sitting position on the wall.
- With your eyes glazed over, stare into the middle distance.
- Well if you think about it, you don't really even need the second fallout shelter now....so, congrats, champ!
- What? Stop looking at me like that. Well done!
You'll need:
- Jelly
- Germs
- A pathological need to lie
Let's get this started!
- Go to your local barbershop, and get a new haircut. You're current cut is, frankly, embarrassing.
- As the barber is pretty close to finishing the yell, "Too late, sucka!", and leap from the chair, running from the shop without paying.
- Develop an insatiable taste for crime.
- Rob a bank.
- You will now be a criminal, which is extremely attractive.
- Purchase a set of colorful, garish suits to flaunt your newfound sexiness.
- Scream, "Come get it, ladies!", and do a dance involving primarily elbow movement in a public location.
- Erect a massive monument to yourself in the town square.
- Charge far too much for entry.
- When no one visits, begin sleeping in the monument most nights; you can use your suits as sleeping blankets.
- You may begin to attract animals as your stench intensifies from lack of hygiene.
- Befriend the group of the animals, learning their languages and customs.
- Learn to play the flute.
- Playing an upbeat jig, lead the animals around town, occasionally exclaiming, "Yes, yes, it's me! The fancy man! Do do do do dee dee!"
- You will be swarmed by suitors.
Hey How-Toers. I have some bad news. Art Ester suffered a massive heart attack, and has passed away. Just kidding, that would be great news! But unfortunately that snake-oil salesman Ester is still kickin', and therefore I am duty bound to dispense with some real how-to knowledge to combat his fake how-to demons. Today we're talkin' soda. Now I know what you're thinking. Isn't soda that thing that keeps running around in my yard, roughhousing and playing games? No, silly, that is your child! They may seem similar at first glance, but in fact there are many differences. Now let's get to the finer points of getting your favorite sugared beverage into that pretty gullet of yours.
You'll need:
- A can of soda (a jar works better)
- Aleven islands (Yes, I spelled it correctly. How do you spell 'Aleven', punk? You wanna fight about it?)
- A terrifying lack of self awareness
Let's get right down and do the damn thing!
- Borrow a paddleboat from your friend who trusted you with their lakehouse for the weekend.
- Ask your girlfriend if she wouldn't want to "explore the lake's charms, hmmm?"
- When she asks what the charms might be, stay silent, and answer only with a slow nod of the head, and an ominous, "You'll see," followed by, in a quieter, barely audible whisper, "You'll all see."
- Find a nice little island in the center of the lake, and rest the boat there.
- Rest on a large rock near the shore and ruminate with your girlfriend about how lucky you both are for the opportunity to share such a lovely moment.
- Forget that it's pretty dark out already, and stay at the island into nightfall.
- Quickly realize you do not know the way back to the lakehouse in the dark.
- Impress upon your girlfriend that this just shows her how spontaneous you are.
- Convince her that you will spend a terribly romantic night on the island.
- Around 4 am, become awakened by a strange but familiar noise.
- Investigate the noise, and realize it is coming from a den close by, dug into the earth.
- Become totally consumed with finding the source of the noise, despite your best instincts.
- Shuffle slowly into the den, feeling around for foot and hand holds.
- Once in the den, realize that it is an office.
- "Hello, sir, do you have an appointment?" The secretary will ask you.
- Say you do have an appointment, and wait in the chair.
- Primp yourself a bit, and check for any food in your teeth. You don't want to blow this.
- Look at the secretary again, and realize she is a fish-human hybrid.
- Become much more nervous for the meeting.
- "Where are you?!!" Your girlfriend may have begun screaming from above.
- Excuse yourself from the chair with a polite smile and nod towards the secretary, putting up one finger to indicate you will be returning in just a moment.
- "What babe?" You reply to your girlfriend, "I'm about to go to a very important meeting! Can you just keep it down a tad out here?"
- Return to the fish lair, and apologize for the disruption.
- After 20 minutes or so, meet with the Fish-King.
- After several arduous hours of negotiation, successfully hammer out a human-fish truce, ending the fish genocide.
- Return outside to find your girlfriend and the boat gone.
- Panicked, begin swimming in the general direction of the lakehouse.
- About halfway there, remember that you are not a strong swimmer.
- Out of breath and thoroughly exhausted, surrender to the lake and begin to sink into its murky depths.
- Right before you lose consciousness, feel yourself being lifted from the bottom by some mysterious force.
- It's the fish secretary! She will guide you to safety, with the knowledge that you are the One And True Fish Savior.
- Wave goodbye as she returns to the lake.
- Do not attempt to explain your journey to your girlfriend. She will understand, implicitly.
- She may not understand implicitly.
- Crack open a soda, you earned it! (Use your hands to open it, that's the trick.)