So You Want To Get Creative

One reason I keep my AOL account is so I can read the headlines each time I logon to check my email. Today, for instance, I was offered "3 creative ways to use that jar of honey." 

Seriously. Are they really going to go there? "There" being the slippery slope of creative uses that [for some] include family pets and the internet. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'm sure not going to risk a Blogger smackdown, except to say that thinking about creative ways with honey reminded me of the time I poured a can of cold beer on a burning log with unfortunate results. Only it wasn't a "log" exactly and while it was definitely "hot," he never said it was actually on fire. 
          Anywho, a couple of things caught my attention. The first was the phrase "that jar of honey," most notable because we all have that exact same jar in our cupboards. That jar with the plastic yellow bear's head on top and his feet sticking out of the bottom. The one you bought in college 25-35 years ago to put in some hot tea because you had the runs. That jar you haven't used since. But you kept it, because your mom taught you not to waste food. So that jar just moved from sorority house to apartment to starter home to big house to smaller place after the divorce. It continues to go wherever you go like those photo albums from high school. And it just sits there in the same spot, next to the spice rack someone gave you for an engagement present during the Nixon administration. You don't throw it out because honey is one of nature's miracles; it never goes bad. But you never use it because who wants to be reminded of all those times you had diarrhea? 
          One click of the honey link and I'm looking at video of a perky young woman who has a job on the internet that I could never get because I don't know html from LMAO -- assholes -- well, the bitch wants me to get creative with "that" jar. It's like she's speaking to me from the grave, except nobody's dead yet. Especially that jar of honey. It just sits there like Chucky, not moving, but alive and well and hoping you'll get the flu, e.coli, salmonella, campylobacter, something, anything to rip your gut to pieces. Don't look at me, I'm not going to be the one to break the news that Imodium is the new hot tea with honey. 
          So now I'm watching this babe named Gail tell me how "we" use that jar of honey sitting in everybody's pantry. 
          Apparently all you have to do is drizzle some over your crostini with herbed goat cheese and walnuts for a deliciously quick appetizer. What the f*ck is a crostini? Looks like toasted bread to me. And herbed goat cheese, not Philly? 
          Then she flaunted her fresh figs and Greek yogurt skills as a topping for her spiced honey and tea cakes recipe. What do you mean Greek? Yogurt with olives in it? And my experience with figs is limited to Newtons. 
          The final blow to my self esteem was showing me how to prepare the honey-drizzled roasted carrots and parsnips recipe. I have never had a parsnip on purpose in my entire life. What is it with vegetables you've always hated suddenly becoming so fashionable? Like roasted baby Brussel spouts with toasted sesame seeds. A baby cabbage by any other name is still a baby cabbage. PTUI!
          You know, this whole thing has me so stressed out, I think I need a Big Mac. 

  BITCH