I love The Honukkah Song! It’s seriously like one of my top 3 favorite songs. It goes, in no particular order, The Honukkah Song, Linger by The Cranberries, and Fuckin’ In The Butt by David Allen Coe. But seriously, Honukkah Song is the nipples. Like, the part where you start naming all the famous people that are Jewish? Love it. LOVE IT. How’d you think of that anyways? You’re so creative and funny. You must come up with so much wacky stuff. That’s probably why you are a famous movie star and everything. I mean, I’m not technically Jewish or whatever but you seriously make it look like so much fun. So jeal. Thanks for everything.
You haven’t lived until you’ve had my Aunt Becky’s casserole. Seriously. Whatever that shitty fucking excuse for an abortion was that you claimed as your “existence” is all total bullstuffing compared to the life you’re gonna lead after devouring some of Aunt B’s cassie rolls. I mean, this thing will transport you to a whole new world. Like that sluttytits Jasmine from The Little Mermaid. Whatever you thought was right is suddenly wrong. What’s down is up. What was real now seems spurious. Steve Spurious. You thought you knew, but you had no idea. This is the Diary of Aunt Becky’s Casserole.
I recollect the first time my taste buds had the honor of encountering Aunt Becky’s C-Role. I was 7 years old and it was 4th of July weekend. Dad was lighting sparklers and Kentucky Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Das. His eyebrows had been singed clean off. He’d been drinking Bud Heavy and you could see a dark ring of piss around where the tip of his knuckleduster oughta be in his shorts. Aunt Becky was there sucking cigarettes down her stoma barking about how she gobbled on Richard Petty’s nutsack during a pit stop at ‘Dega ’85. She was shoveling casserole onto paper plates and passin’ em around to anybody that would take one.
I remember that first fork full. The clouds parted and a beam of light descended from above -ancient aliens style. Time ceased. Like remember when Zack would stop time on Saved By The Bell and everyone would freeze and he’d address the camera. They call it breaking the fourth wall. SBTB was way ahead of it’s time. They were dicking around with time travel way before Lost. Member when Screech and Zack got in a fight over that twat-trap Lisa Turtle and everybody slurpin on sodie-pops at the MAX was watchin’ like WHAAAT? How could Z-Bird be into Lisa when he knows good and well how much his best bro Dusty ‘Screech’ Diamond wanted to finger fuck that pile of brown sugar? Plus, no offense Lisa Turtle but you are a solid 7.5. Totally bangable but I mean, c’mon, have you seen Kelly? She’s got a pouty little snapper molded out of solid gold, shaved cleaner than Stone Cold Steve Austin’s dome. And Zack was slurpin’ on that ham wallet back in middle school. That whole thing with Lisa was just a fling for Zack. Was it right to do that to Screech? No. Shit’s fucked up. But can you blame him for wanting to get a taste of that dark meat just once? No. A little leg and thigh ain’t never hurt nobody. Diversity is the spice of life. Saved By The Bell addressed interracial relationships way before we had our black president Obama and Big Willie was kissin’ our white women on our big screens.
Where was I? Oh right. Becky’s casserole was the tittyfuck. After that first bite, I was engulfed in a cocoon of warm light. I found myself floating above, looking down at myself and I could see everything. My beginning. My end. Jesus Christ of Nazareth was there. So was Marty King Junior and Heath Ledger. In that instant my testicles descended and they’ve been there ever since.