I think I get a Marketing degree for this- or maybe slapped with a restraining order.

I know this guy. And by "know" I mean I stumbled upon his blog a while ago and then became proficient at lurking there. Not because I am some creepy internet stalker (ahem), but because this guy is awesome. I may or may not have developed a tiny blog-crush. And I may or may not have laughed so hard at some of his posts that beverages came out of my nose.

I am going to get all link-y here....at least I am gonna try.

Seriously- go check out Johnny Virgil over at 15 Minute Lunch. He is an amazing storyteller. And it gets better. He wrote a book. A freaking BOOK. You can buy it. I bet he would like that.

I am going to be done gushing now...because there is a distinct possibility that this post will earn me the internet equivalent of a restraining order. But I am totally gonna chance it.

Plastic fumes are not festive. Something you should never learn the hard way.

So I just baked some Christmas cookies. Okay- to be more truthful they were just normal chocolate chip cookies, but I put in red and green M&Ms. So that makes them all festive, right? Here's the thing...... When I went to put the first ones on the cookie sheet I had a moment of "oh hell, I am going to hate this because I only have one cookie sheet and I am going to have to wash this in between each batch that I bake so they don't get all burn-y on the bottom uuuuggghhh why did I start this...."

And then I had an idea.

I remembered I have this rubbery mat-thing that is supposed to be super great for baking. Your baked goods will just slide right off and unicorns will sneeze glitter right in your very own kitchen! At least I think that is how the advertisement goes. So I pulled it out of the cabinet and got everything ready. Blopped the cookie dough onto it and put it in the oven where I imagined little imperfect circles of deliciousness would soon be created. But I think something went terribly wrong.

My first clue was the horrible horrible smell of burning plastic and hair. I can't even explain the hair smell. My only guess is that I used a new recipe and "bread flour" is actually made out of "old unwashed hobo hair."

And then the smoke alarm went off. But there was no smoke in the house. Weird, right? I think my smoke detector has a "your cookies are gonna taste like shit" alert. But I can't be sure. So I opened the oven door and the cookies were all half baked melty blobules and I was all "They aren't even DONE." So I had a debate with myself about whether or not I should just take them out because they were creating meth fumes or something, or let them finish baking because they weren't even real cookies yet.

I opted to let them finish baking. (You can't eat hot, runny cookie dough. Even I know that's not right. And throwing them away would be wasteful. Probably.)

In my defense, the only cooking lesson I ever got from my mom was when I was in college and decided one night to make dinner. I wanted to make roast beef (?). So I asked her how I would know when it was done and she said "Does it look like you want to eat it?" (And in her defense, that is actually true for beef.) The rest of my cooking knowledge I got from the Food Network and they let people like Guy Fieri have a show.

So I let them finish. And then I wrestled them off the silicon-baking-mat thing. And then I ate one.

They were pretty good. If you like plastic flavored M&Ms. Personally, I like the coconut ones better.