CRACKED.com is launching a new feature where we ask some of our favorite sites on the web to fill in for us on Saturdays. You get to learn about an awesome site you may not have heard of, and we get to sleep off a wicked hangover. We're kicking it off with a blog entry from first lady Laura Bush, as provided by the good people at Newsgroper.com.
Greetings from the First Lady to all the lesser ladies all across this great nation of ours. With Flag Day approaching fast, I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to share with y'all an old family recipe -- Devil's Food cake! Or, as my great grammie Jennaybeline Susamae Welch called it, Negro Loaf. Except she didn't say Negro. Georgie says that I can't write ****** in my blog.
Below are the list of ingredients. Have your maid, housekeeper, or other ethnic person who comes to your house to clean and stuff, go and pick up these ingredients wherever it is they go to get your food. I'm not sure exactly where they go. Also, find some pots and pans and spoons and stuff. Remember, knives are sharp and hurt a lot. One time I saw a black person.
Now that we got all these ingredients together from the ingredient gettin' place, you may think that we're all ready to begin. Well hold your horses, because you're forgetting the two most important things you have to do before beginning any cooking project.
First, you need to pray. I like to pray in my special praying closet under the stairs in the East Wing. It reminds me of the crawlspace daddy use to lock me in to apologize to Jesus for being slutty. I pray for about an hour or so, or until I'm nice and limber. Next, and just as important, you need to take a few of the pills that your doctor gives you. As you can see from the ingredients list, we're throwing a generous portion of them into the mix, but it's a good idea to take a few of them before committing to any serious activity. Or casual activity. Or just sittin'.
I have to try to remember not to throw all the ingredients into the bowl all at once. That's bad, Laura.
Alright, now that Jesus in your heart and the helpy pills have let you escape the awake-nightmares, we're ready to begin. First, grease two 9 inch layer cake pans and line the bottoms with wax paper. Now, I know a lot of you common folk use Crisco, but I use a very fancy alternative that I found one time when I was hiding in the Lincoln Bedroom. It's called Ky (pronounced kai, like "Yippy-kai-yai-yay, motherfather!") If ya'll can find a gettin' place that has this fancy stuff called Ky Jelly, you should buy it. It probably costs $50,000 or so, though, so you regular folks may have to settle for Crisco.
Next, sift the cocoa with 1/3 cup sugar. Now pour it into the milk gradually and stir until well blended. Then set it aside to cool for a little while. One time in high school I was driving and there was a stop sign but I thought it was only a stop sign for coloreds so I didn't stop and I hit a kid named Michael Douglas. He went Wap! right on my windshield! It was the silliest thing. I still feel kinda sore about the whole thing. I wish I had run over the other Michael Douglas. That Basic Instinct movie was lewd and disgusting, and he looks like a Jew.
Alright, next, we sift together the flour, the remaining cup of sugar, the soda, and salt. Now add shortening and half of the cooled cocoa and milk mixture. Beat at medium speed with an electric hand-held mixer. You have to have electricity to do this, and I realize that many of you don't even know what electricity is. I didn't either until one time the Secret Service men had to tase me and lock me in the crawlspace for being slutty. If you don't have electricity you should have a handy ethnic person use a beating tool. Don't let them use the tool that you normally use to beat them, though. They might get ideas. And ideas are bad.
Now add eggs, vanilla, and the remaining cocoa and milk mixture. Continue beating for about 2 minutes, scraping bowl with a spatula occasionally. Have you ever been to Africa? I hate it. Don't go to Africa if you don't have to. There's flies everywhere and they don't even got an Armadillo Willy's. Just a bunch of huts and AIDS. After we move back to Texas I don't have to touch AIDS people ever again.
After you put it in the oven, hurry up and clean everything up spic and span before your husband gets home or he'll give you a well-deserved walloping! My husband is the President.
Happy Flag Day, everyone!
Many more blogs of equally questionable authenticity can be found at NewsGroper.com.