Friday, November 9, 2007

The Jiblitz n’ Gravy Spanksgivin’ Special

J & G: Howdy Gastronauts

J: I’m Jiblitz!

G: and I’m Gravy!

We’re Jiblitz n’ Gravy and we’re here to ejumacate all you balls and curls out there in TV land how to whoop up a lipspanking linger flickin’gastro-intestinal-icious Spanksgivin’ Fiest that’ll knock yer hockey sox off like a ratchet loppers on cornstalk!

J: And it won’t cost a chiggers nipple neither!

G: ‘Ats right Jib’ cause we do the way them ol’pilgrims used ta do: cheek and eepanomical like. Ya see, the ‘grims didn’t have a whole heap a wallet wampum so they had to skrimp and save like a shaved squirrel in an acorn fire. But at the same time, show them Packachicklets a thing or two about gourmet cookin’

J: Yep it was all about one-uppin them Nippantuckets, and they ain’t had no Souix chefs so they raped the villages and pillaged the women like teenage termites on a scrotum pole. But after a hard days a work, they come back with a whole honky heapa a helpins to make your eyes water and yer mouth pop right outta yer damnfool sprockets. Oo-oowhee!

G: So git out yer fryin’ pants and into the fire ‘cause we gonna have ourselves a FOOD‘N-NANNY!!!

J: HE-E-E-EHAW!! GOLLAMEE-JILLICKERS ‘SGONNA BE TASTIER’N a TON O’ Toe-tappin...flippy... jappa...loopy... sloppin...

G: Shuddup Jiblitz. Try ta keep yer exuberatin’ down to within the limits o’city ordinances. Now whatcha got for us there Jib’?

J: Well Gravy, norman-mailery Thanks diggin’ giver’s all about a big ol’ honkin’ gollywhomper of a turkey. But I’ll be rumpsnuggled if I can shell out the buckaneers for one them yardpeckers. So as a subs-ti-tooty ah got me one them there bearcats! But plaid-gasket, ain’t nobody gonna know the damn differentiation any hooters-the-size-a-warty-melons!

G: Don’t make no never mind, she’ll look like a winner once we skin’ er! Meat; it’s what’s for dinner!

J: And what-cha-ma-gonna-ma stuff that mongoose with, Gravy?

G: Better question is: what aint we, Jib’. We gonna lard ‘er up with everything and its mother, includin’ the stitchin’ kink!

J: You mean the stinkin’ kitch?

G: Close enough cause madder ‘n a fact that’s where we gonna git it! We gonna show y’all how to make jenny-you-whine chestgut stuffin’ out o’ scrapin’s from the garbage disposal.

J: That’s dis-gusting Gravy.

G: Oh Countcha hair moan frere, its gonna be adelica-smellica-toyota celica-see and I’ll tell ya why...

J: Wise hat?

G: On a counter we make everything fresh as aday-she-was-born.

J: So lets do it without further ado, first we take a loaf a Uncle Pa’s Inn Bread an hack it to bits wif a chain saw massacre (BR-R-R-O-O-OW-W-D-D-d-d)

G: Whoa! Easy with that thing turbinado. You better count yer fingers.

J: Hold on a minute... GRAVY! I got FIVE! Wait’ll aunt Ma hears about this!

G: Jib? Jib? Come in Jib!? Nextly, we incarcerate this trash barrel full o’ megetable veggely. We got keys and parrots, teets and pernips, artabagas and rutachokes!

J: That’s a pro lotta ho-duce Gravy.

G: I ain’t done, jumpy-the-gun.

J: Well zip my lip and flog me with sally.

G: Maybe later mush potater. Now we has to infiltrate the amalgamation with real imitation chestnuts. Weakin’ o’ spitch, we need to introduce the savory herbs. Parsley meet dill, mustard meet thyme. Tarragon, pepper...

J: The pleasures all mine.

G: Tumeric, cumin meet basil and salt, If bay leaves with sage, its oregano’s fault! Great Humpin-Ja-blowz-a-fat! We almost forgot...The Mono-scrodium grew-ta-mate! Now all ya gotta do is shovel the whole smitten kaboodle right up that varmints pookie chute and...and...

J: Whut seems to be the bowelfunction Gravy?

G: Well I’ll be pickled stink and monkey whipped, Jiblitz. We plum fergot ta hollow ‘em out!

J: Oh well Gravy, we done plum run outta time.


Jiblitz N’ Gravy was brought to you by: Maalox and Queazy & Wretch Brand Stomach Pumps and Barf Bags.


Top Blogs