Mug Cakes and Lazy Assholes.

So after the "cake" disaster of a couple nights ago, I decided to try to redeem myself with a mug cake recipe that called for more ingredients. You know, ones that would normally be included in a real cake. The one I used tonight was the 5-Minute Chocolate Mug Cake, and it's true to its name. It took 5 minutes, and it actually tasted like chocolate (unlike its predecessor).

I wish I could have gotten a picture of it while it was cooking in the microwave (or of KJ's reaction to it erupting), but the inside of the door started steaming up just as the batter ballooned to an impressive height beyond the lip of the mug. Naturally, as soon as I opened the door it began to deflate like it had a slow air leak. I did have the foresight this time to take a picture of it before we jabbed a spoon into it, though!

Underwhelming at this height.

It isn't much to look at, but I have to say, KJ and I both liked it. I used actual sugar instead of Splenda (only 2 tsp), and white chocolate chips because that was all I had on hand. Aside from the settling of the chocolate chips to the bottom before cooking resulting in spelunking for sweetness, I have no complaints about this recipe. I didn't even have to coerce the truth out of my lovingly gluttonous husband this time. He ate it because he enjoyed it, without the benefit of ice cream! It was surprisingly moist, so it didn't even make me wish for ice cream...unlike the mug cake of sadness past.

Before the cake experiment, though, I decided to make something for dinner that I haven't made in years: Chicken Cordon Bleu. I don't know which of us was more excited by the idea of melted Swiss cheese leaking out of a prosciutto-stuffed chicken breast, but I do know each of us devoured it.

No photo will ever make this meal look good. Ever.

In addition to eating today, we did go to the gym. Apparently Thursday is "Take Your Kid to Gym" day. I remember when I was a kid, we were told to go outside and play, or go downstairs and play. Basically, get the hell out of the way of whatever my mother was doing, and play. Wasn't playing exercise? When the fuck did it become a thing to pay hundreds of dollars for a gym membership for your lazy children? I swear, there was a kid there no older than 13 who had a personal trainer coaching him through exercises he clearly had zero interest in doing. He sat on a recumbent bike for 5 minutes while he was supposed to be 'warming up', picking his cuticles and drinking VitaWater, or whatever that flavoured garbage water is called.

What. The. Fuck? 

I am a fat adult who wants to get healthy and active, and I won't get a trainer for myself! The things parents do boggle my goddamned mind. Is it really that hard to go for a walk with your own chubby kid if you think he's chubby and needs a walk? Walking is free! Quit buying your kid flavoured water and dropping him off with a very expensive stranger he doesn't appreciate, and go do something with him. I bet he'd appreciate that more when he's older (and is not a lazy asshole like his mom/dad).

I really think I should rename this blog "What the Fuck?" or "I Hate People".

Or "My Budding Pill Addiction" (joking, of course. I'm way more into needle drugs).

**Disclaimer: If you are concerned about my mental health or the possibility of a budding drug addiction, please click this link, and realize you don't know me at all.**