I have never quite gotten the expression, “Who’s your daddy?” This phrase is usually uttered by some machismo douche-asaurus banging some bar skank with a tramp stamp tattoo and daddy issues. I supposed that is appropriate considering she is looking for a father figure and he is fulfilling a stereotype. But think about it for a moment. Who wants to fantasize about banging a family member? Last I checked incest is lower on the evolutionary scale than bestiality. Sure I fantasize about banging someone else’s family members, but that is above the board and legal. I’m more likely to grunt in the throes of wanton lust, “Who’s your daddy’s favorite employee?” Bob, if you’re reading this, this is purely hypothetical and I did not engage in illicit fornication in your boathouse while wearing your prized captain’s hat. I also have no idea where those stains on the wall came from. But I do know where that papaya salsa that you and your delightfully innocent daughter are enjoying. Handcrafted by the same hands that help run your empire. You’re welcome. Do you mind if I borrow Rochelle for sec? I need her help tossing this salad. Read the rest of this entry »
Beer-goggles are a time-honored utility that have justified more than a few plus-sized mistakes. I only wish I could say that I’ve never gone spelunking between rolls of flab. Granted, that was long before the Cook To Bang method was a twinkle in my eye. But too much booze to the brain makes what would have been as appealing as banging a beached whale rotting in the sun while sober seem like a swell idea when tanked. We all make mistakes; I just prefer my mistakes not shop at the Big and Tall. That said, sometimes when you’re in a rut, you just need to bang something. Anything. You need to rebuild your confidence the way a sports franchise has a “rebuilding season”. Beer-goggles are terrific to put your head back into the game as long as it’s far from the eyes of your friends who will no doubt mock you for your homely transgression. When the dirty deed had been done and did, you can fight the hangover and shame with some soul-inspiring beer-battered fish tacos. Or you could just make them for that hottie you’re sweet on.
Ingredients (serves 2):
1. 1 cup vegetable oil
2. 1 cup flour
3. 1 cup cheap beer
4. 2 dashes CAYENNE PEPPER
5. ¼ shredded coconut
6. ½ lb of FISH: red snapper, tilapia or rock fish cut in 3 inch slivers
7. ½ AVOCADO sliced thinly
8. HORIZONTAL MAMBO MANGO SALSA
9. 2 handfuls shredded cabbage
10. 1 tomato chopped coarsely
11. 4 small corn tortillas
Create the beer batter by mixing the flour, beer and shredded coconut thoroughly.
Heat up the oil in a pot that is deep and narrow. Dip a sliver of fish into the batter and immediately toss in the oil. Deep fry each piece until golden brown and transfer to a plate covered in paper towels to soak up the grease. Season the fried fish with cayenne pepper.
Assemble the fish tacos by first placing the fish in the middle of the tortilla and then stuffing it with cabbage, tomato, avocado and mango salsa.
Serve these up with a side of GUAPO GRINGO GUACAMOLE if the deep-fried fish doesn’t have enough calories.
I can’t go a week without banging out a new perverse recipe for Mexican food. There is something so comforting and snuggly about the ability of food South of the border (US, obv) to put an ear-to-ear grin on my face. It’s an instant crowd pleasure from a party full of dudes obsessively watching the playoffs to the sexy number you share a quiet Thursday evening with the lights down low. The best part is Mexican grub like these Poonchiladas are so easy to make that a jellyfish with a blindfold pull it off. True story. My arm is still throbbing from being stung, but the jellyfish’s was out of sight. No matter what nature show hosts might tell you, jellyfish sex is not that kinky. So what are you waiting for? If a invertebrate with only tentacles can pull off Poonchiladas, then certain you can CTB with this dish. Right? Read the rest of this entry »
Hey hey Mamacita!
So glad to meet ya!
Come over, I’ll treat ya
So sit and down eat, yah?
Mexican food brings me much joy and comfort. Somehow I don’t feel unique for that. Pretty much every date I’ve served sumptuous South of the border nibbles responds in kind. The hot like a cheetah mamacita just comes out. It’s on at that point with no turning back. You can’t close Pandora’s box of bodacious body bumping. So heed my disclaimer: Unimaginable pleasure will result from whipping these carnitas up. Those with whack taste buds and distaste for debauchery should probably find a new recipe site. Read the rest of this entry »
All earthly creatures do it in their own way. Giraffes do it standing up, their long necks intertwined. Male spider monkeys will grab their female partner mid-air, hump them, and release before they even hit the ground. Humans have all kinds of mating rituals from courting over food, to bringing in toys to “bring the spark back”, to discussing the relationship ad nausea post-coital. And within the human genus, we have countless subsets of this behavior. We are an odd species to be sure. Aliens who enslave us two decades from now will be hard-pressed to figure out how to get us to toil away on the Vectarion reactors. I’ll make it simple for them: give us food and let us bang. We’ll take it from there, Remulox. Read the rest of this entry »
Diddle me this. Diddle me that. Who’s afraid of getting fat? Not I, says the COOK TO BANG chefs who cook healthy, badass food, and then subsequently burn off those calories banging like chimpanzees on meth. So we can afford to indulge in a little turbocharged bar food every once in a while. You deserve to make something ridiculously easy that earns you props from the prissy crowd who “don’t usually indulge in such low brow foods.” So long as they put out after they are put in their place I am down to put up with them. Aren’t the whiners the most satisfying to bang senseless? It’s like wearing out their motor mouths by stuffing they with the tastiest of treats. Ain’t no stopping you from getting some peace…of ass. Read the rest of this entry »
Are you cursed with dating prudes who just don’t put out? This is not unlike slamming your finger in a car door, but it’s your self-esteem that cries out in pain. Your first problem is that you shouldn’t try to pick up prospective dates at a Jonas Brothers concert. And even if you are a sucker who thinks meeting a nice girl or boy is the way to go, Cook To Bang like a champ and you will make that purity rings land perfectly in the trash with nothing but net. I have faith that you can turn the rosy-cheeked innocent into your sex slave with the right approach. That’s why I developed this hearty tortilla soup for you. It’s quite healthy, has an APHRODISIAC double threat, and seems wholesome at first glance. That is exactly how you should operate. Get in under the radar and then turn your date out. Turn that nun or choirboy into your own personal whore. Now hear yourself ROAR! Read the rest of this entry »