fine! i'll do it! but i'm only doing it because i have guilt! deep in my soul!

my brother sent me a note with an accompanying article complete with circling:

now, i'm gonna let you know, that despite the fact that i am ALLERGIC!!! to everything about scones, i made scones for those mother fuckers this xmas. and even though i chuckled appreciatively at this note slash magazine article (um, don't only grandmothers circle and send articles? brother?), i am boiling with rage (i know, you guys say i don't do anger very angrily) at the ungratefulness this whole communication implies.

do you even know what happened after i made EIGHT batches of scones? do you? those mother fuckers complained that they didn't get the same mother fucking amount as the other mother fuckers. well, mother fucker y'all. i'm so mother fucking sorry that your needs haven't been mother fuckin completely met. do you know what happened to me after making the scones? hmmm, did i get to eat a mother fucking flaky delicious scone? no. i mother fucking didn't. i got a mother fucking migraine. that's what i mother fucking got. and then i got the runny mother fucking bunnies. and then! i got joint mother fucking pain and all the other lovely things that happen to me afterward.


so, NEXT year i think i'll poison the scones. problem. solved. thank you, robert for your note. YOU'VE RUINED IT FOR EVERYONE! MOTHER FUCKER!

now, the story of the scones, for your enjoyment. one time, about tenish years ago, i was watching martha stewart making scones on the teevee. they were blueberry scones and they looked delightful. i like trying new recipes and scones seemed to be just the ticket. i tried them, i tinkered with the recipe because i don't really like cooked blueberries and i don't really like lemon zest in too many things. i feel it overpowers the flavor. i ended up changing the baking soda as well. mostly because i'm a mother fucking badass.

what resulted was flaky, chocolate chippy goodness. mmmmm. my first mistake was being proud of myself for making something so tasty. my second mistake was wanting to share my awesome tastiness with my crazy family because for the past one million years i have had to make countless scones under duress. that's all those mother fuckers want.

birthday? scones
christmas? scones
saturday? scones
AIDS? scones

i'm glad nobody in my family has the AIDS *knock on wood* but if they did, they would want scones. i'm telling you. one time i tried to teach my whorey sister how to make them and she said, "they never taste the same!" and i said, "it's because you're not angry enough." and she said, "YEAAAH! i think the extra ingredient is becky's anger!" like she had discovered something. what. a. whore.

my brother's wife made them for him and he slipped up and said they weren't the same. ooooops. now? if you ask him? he says, "noooo. i didn't. say that. they're. fine. really. delicious." i think she may be poisoning and brainwashing him at the same time. i did send them some when i made them last. i hope she doesn't hate me too much.

i blame myself. i should never make things for people. i'm just too good at making things. if i made a something gross everyone would love it so much that everyone would be like, "give me more of that gross stuff you make." and i'd be all, "curses! i've done it again!"