Saturday, October 6, 2007

The one where I shatter your useless testicles.

As I've said before, one of my favorite thing is cooking. One of my least favorite things, as you should fucking well know, is bullshit in any form. I go to a Culinary Arts technical school. Some folks there are like I am; they want to cook and for whatever circumstance, whether it be finances, location, family issues, etc., can't go to a decent school with a good reputation. Most of the fuckers there, however, are there because they can't do anything else. For example, their guidance counselors, sometimes court-appointed, will ask "what's your favorite thing?" And the student-to-be will respond with something like "cherry pie" or "fried chicken and biscuits" and the counselor, gleefully, will exclaim, "you must want to be a cook!" before moving on to the next contributing member of society and make a similar diagnosis regarding people who like reading Hustler and cosmetology.

Some of the latter are in the kitchen I'm studying in now. One asshole in particular, I'll call him "Crisco" since he not only uses it in every recipe, he looks like if I were to punch him in the face, my fist would slide off because of the grease content of his skin, can't fucking cook. Every single thing he touches turns to shit. I can't stress just how much he fucks up. He doesn't know how to make caramel, and anyone who knows even the basics of baking or desserts knows how to fucking make caramel.

But he's not content with fucking his own food up and failing the class; he insists on fucking everyone else's projects up. He will try to make sure no one's looking and punch all the air out of someone's proofing bread dough. He'll turn the fan in the convection oven on high when someone puts a cake in to the batter gets blown to shit. He'll sneak drops of food coloring in to make a pretty green into a baby-shit brown.

Here's my personal favorite: The school has an 800-pound floor mixer
used for making very large quantities of bread dough. I learned the hard way that it malfunctions and sometimes turns itself back on briefly and does a few revs around the bowl. This happened the other day to me while I was making doughnuts and pinned my hand between the hook and the mixer when I was scraping the bowl down. Note: Don't call me a moron for this because scraping the bowl down is necessary; now I just turn the mixer at the breaker before I do since I had to go to the emergency room because everyone who saw it thought my hand was broken. I'm surprised it wasn't. Had the mixer been on a higher speed or done a few more revs around, my hand would have been shattered. Anyway...back to Crisco.

In my rush to the hospital, I left my thermometer there. I got back the next day to find out that my thermometer had been shattered. I thought someone had dropped it, which would have been an honest mistake. A few witnesses told me that Crisco saw it and started slamming it against the table until it was in pieces. I confronted him about it and asked him if he planned on paying me for the thermometer he shattered for the fuck of it. He got a deer-in-headlights look and said "what thermometer?" I kicked him in the balls so hard he will be tasting his own jizz for a month. I hope to Christ I made him useless to a woman. Or a man. He threw up on the sidewalk and I walked away. He hasn't been at school since.

So I have some advice for you: If you're tired of someone else's bullshit, do something about it. I'm not telling you to shatter someone's nuts because you can get in serious trouble for that and you're probably stupid enough to try to sue me for it. What I am saying is there are always measures you can take to put someone in their place, no matter how extreme.

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