Aunt Becky’s Casserole

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.

Things I Would Rather Do Than Eat At Cracker Barrel

  • Go to a Coldplay concert.
  • Have Uncle Kracker as a biological uncle then get molested by him.
  • Hire Steve Buscemi as a nude model for my sculpting class.
  • Watch  an According to Jim marathon on mute.
  • Eat some fresh Georgia peaches fresh off the vine.
  • Play checkers in the Cracker Barrel store, and then leave before eating.
  • Shave’ my pubies and glue them to my eyebrows so I look like the dad from The O.C.
  • Be outed by my granddad at Thanksgiving.
  • Eat raw chicken and get salmonella then eat raw salmon and get chickenella, ROFLCOPTERZZ.
  • Be Kathy Bates’ vibrator.
  • Take ecstasy with Rip Torn in the bathroom at a Jethro Tull concert in 1986.
  • Steal from and then subsequently share a prison cell with OJ Simpson.
  • Bake a fatty loaf of banana bread and give it to the orphans.
  • Funnel sand into my Urethra Franklin.
  • Sip on a frosty Monster Margarita on the sunny shores of Daytona Beach while Jimmy Buffet blares from my battery operated Bose portable stereo system. Meanwhile, my wife of 16 years rubs a mixture of spf-60 and Cheetos residue on her pasty, flabby tum-tum and complains about how she can’t go swimming because she’s surfing the crimson wave AKA sporting the red badge of courage AKA riding the cotton pony AKA her vagina is reenacting the battle scenes in Saving Private Ryan AKA Aunt Flo is in town and is making her poop blood out her pussyhole, and she doesn’t want to get eaten by sharks.
  • Go camping.
  • Pick up all the dirty diapers in the Walmart parking lot, across the street from the Crackel Barrel.
  • Sip on some bourbon, reading Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury in a country-style rocking chairs on the porch of the Creckr-Buurl.
  • Volunteer at Nana’s retirement home.
  • Volunteer for anything at all.
  • Go Jet Skiing with my tightest bros, bro.
  • Apply to MIT, go to school for 6 years, invent a shrink ray, accidentally shrink my beloved children, find them in my bowl of cereal, feel relieved, figure out how to reverse the shrink ray to return them to their normal size, write a screenplay about the whole thing, sell it to Disney for briefcases of money, pour all the money on the floor and roll around in it, buy a really post-modern house with a pool, do a little coke, do a little more coke, get addicted to coke, run out of money, try to figure out some way to suck more money out of Walt Disney’s bloated ass, “accidentally” blow up my beloved baby, let him rampage through Las Vegas while I do coke off strippers clits (two birds, one stone), sell the sequel to Disney, live happily ever after.
  • Have sex with a fresh, hot Krispy Kreme doughnut.
  • Meet Reese Witherspoon.
  • Have a taste of Reese’s pieces (pussies).
  • You didn’t hear? Reese Witherspoon has 4 pieces (pussies).
  • Yeah, it’s weird, I know. But that’s how God made her and who are we to judge, riiiight?
  • Like, cuz God is omni powerful and omni knowing and omni potent sometimes we don’t really understand His master plan. Does that make sense?
  • We are pretty much like ants to God.
  • Reese Witherspoon would be like our queen cuz she has so many vaginas and she can pump out worker ants to build furniture and shit.
  • Like in Antz with Woody Allen. and Danny Glover. The Glove. Glove Man. G-Love. Special Sauce.
  • Antz was so much better than A Bugs Life.
  • Yeah, okay, A Bugs Life had Kevin Spacey and RandyNewman doing the soundtrack.
  • I’ll give you that. Love some Randy New-New. Rando Calrissian. Newman the Jewman.
  • It’s the age old battle between Pixar and Dreamworks. We all know how the story goes.
  • It’s a tale as old as time.
  • Shrek vs. Toy Story. Madagascar vs. Finding Nemo. Kung Fu Panda vs. Ratatouille. Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Were-Rabbit vs. Up.
  • Shit’s serious.
  • Imagine a movie with Woody, D. Gloves, with DJ Handy Randy Jew-boy on the 1′s and 2′s.
  • That’d be something worth watching.
  • I would much rather watch that than eat the shitty, geriatric food that they serve at the Cracker Barrel.