Fuck I adore my housemate.
So I've been undergoing the attempt to extend some of my outer suburb mates' vocabularies and food knowledge, likewise that I now know how to put BBQ sauce on absolutely everything and how to abbreviate every single word in my sentence.
Even the words that have already been abbreviated.
For instance "What do you mean?" becomes "What ya mean?" to simply "Watch mean?"
I tell you I'm saving thousands of seconds of my life and wasting so much of my Dad's valuble money that has been spent on my private school education.
Anywho. I cooked brussell sprouts the other night, not crap ones either, ones with butter and salt and bacon until they act like a sponge and taste nothing like how your Nan made them. (You know, steamed until they resemble a pair of school camp explorer socks that got wet on the first day and shoved to the bottom of the pack.)
A conversation followed a few days later that went something like this:
My housemate: "Brussell sprouts taste good when they're infused with shit."
Me: "Good work with the word 'infused'. Very nicely done.
H: "Bitch please, I was unemployed for three months, I've watched my fair share of cooking shows."
Me: "Now I know why you wanted TV so badly. You missed Martha Stewart."
Gotta love living with someone that won't stab you when you hog the recorded TV with Ready Steady Cook.