It’s that time of the year again! Fuckitscolduary! It’s the perfect time to snuggle up by a large rock, and eat a picnic basket full of Meconium Tarts! Like the name suggests, they are tarts. If your spouse, significant other, or security blanket you “legally” married because you “repeatedly fucked it,” tries to tell you that these aren’t tarts, well, you just roll them up in a furious ball and throw them down the laundry chute like the semen-crusted life partner they are. Who the fuck are they to tell you what or what is not a tart?? And, not to bury the lede, these Meconium Tarts bare the namesake of 80’s rockers, Meconium, whose chart-topping, smash-hit single, “Pre-natal Mucus Diarrhea,” inspired a nation to shit inside themselves until their dreams came true. Point is: You are a failure at everything. so why not start a YouTube channel?
YOU WILL NEED
- 7,600 “pre-born” babies, in utero. If you can’t find babies in utero, in brine will do.
- A book about witchcraft or origami. Either works because they’re both terrifying.
- 1/2 cup neutron star, de-neutroned
- 1 Lg (2400 oz) hemisphere of ramen noodles
- A pan of baked ziti (If baked ziti is out of season, you may substitute steamed ziti — but remember: it will be soft and weird.)
- 1 tsp powdered flakes
- 1 cup secretary bird face
- 2 cups Lincoln, Nebraska (de-Nebraskaed)
- A forty pound tuna with an onion jammed up its ass
- A sleeve of unitary executive theory
- Preheat oven to the temperature of kitten nightmares
- In a bowl shaped like Rhode Island, gently mash the prunes until they reach the consistency of you realizing the prunes are actually baby koala kidneys. Say to yourself, “Wait, what?” and aside prune / kidneys to spelch.
- While the prunes / baby koala kidneys are spelching, whisk secretary bird face in a mixing bowl at 900,000 rpm — or until you have successfully whisked through the bowl and 1/4 through the Earth’s mantle. (If the kids ask if they can lick the bowl, tell them it’s ok because 85,000° C isn’t really all that hot, and secretary bird face tastes like ass below 60,000° C anyway. For safety: use a non-flammable wooden spoon and someone else’s child.)
- After oven is pre-heated, place all wet ingredients in a microwave-safe bowl. Say to yourself, quietly, “Why is this stuff wet, again??” but then let the thought pass quickly from your mind. Place microwave-safe bowl into larger, microwave-will-fuck-this-up-bowl, and rotate both bowls until they click deep in your soul in that place where love might exist if you weren’t a horrible piece of shit.
- Stir brine babies, oink flakes, and Lincoln, Nebraska in an oblong tube while muttering about rent control. What they don’t tell you about oink flakes is, “Mmmmaaarrrrfffffadale,” so don’t be surprised if you use too little or too much. Both can happen unless you know where in the fuck you are buying your oink flakes.
- When finally west of the Pyrenees, fluff bacon until reasonably fluffed, and then fold in the wet mixture until you know that shit is fluffed and mixed as fuck. Say the words ‘wet mixture’ in your head again and again and again until all vestiges of your childhood innocence have evaporated from your soul, and you are just a dark, unsatisfying, soggy husk of a person, sitting there, taking up space, afraid to die.
Sprinkle with Cars 2 merchandise to taste. Serves 98,000. Do not attempt to make.
By Aaron Sarlo, © 2020 / Publication date: November 9, 2020