Gooch in Wonderland

I love ramekins. The little cups in which condiments are served in fancy-ish restaurants captivate me. I made a Twitter/Facebook update that stated simply: "I steal ramekins." Someone who works at a restaurant that uses ramekins protested, because I (and idiots like me) am the reason he runs out of ramekins and had to use the "to-go" ramekins. I can sympathize... I hate the plastic ramekins. They don't look as nice and don't have the weight necessary to stay upright during a vicious dipping session. You could use that last sentence in its entirety as a way to describe dating an anorexic girl.

Ha.

I responded with the following little free-write, which isn't that spectacular, but serves nonetheless as content on this blog.

It's restauranteurs' fault for using opaque to-go containers. That's my #1 tool in ramekin smuggling. Ceramic ones from Claim Jumper, steel ones from Roadhouse. I love the little bastards. If I played D+D... my name would be Ramekin. I want to open a specialty kitchen supply place called "RameKing." "You want a glass ramekin? Sorry, we're out, but John over at Rameking probably has some. They have tons of ramekins there. I don't know where he gets them, but he also sells used opaque to-go containers. He's weird."

Last night, I stole one of those little fuckers from Roadhouse. I totally jacked that shit because I wanted the horseradish sauce. I wanted the au jus as well for my leftover prime rib, but that would just make a mess. I'm such a pussy, too, because I wanted to steal both ramekins, but was afraid that TWO missing ramekins might have raised suspicion. Then what? I get my ass kicked? I should go back tonight for that little sauce-holding bastard. Little wide mouthed shot glasses. Little cereal bowls for anorexics. Fancy liquid medicine cups. So adorable! I just want to put them in my pocket and take them home with me. Which, as you've gathered, I do.

goochout.

To the tune of Lady Ga Ga's "Bad Romance" 
 
Ra Ra RaRaRa
Ra Ra RaRaRa
Ra Ra Ra Ra Ramekin
 
You hold my au jus
You hold my bleu cheese
You hold my ketchup so I don't have to squeeze
A big bottle
 
RaRaRa a bit bottle... [getting too stupid, you get the idea].