Pie

Chances are, as you're reading this (especially if you're reading this after 10:00 am), I'm on the road. That's right, my friends. As we speak (or whatever it is we do here), I am joining millions of other Americans by taking to the open road and driving to a far-off destination in order to eat myself into a stupor on Thursday afternoon. Hopefully, since I'm now in the land of the woebegone Panthers, Thanksgiving dinner won't cut into the Packers/Lions game too much. I would like to watch the one football team I pull for that has some semblance of a clue on the gridiron.

Anyway, I told you about how much I despise pumpkins. That big, evil fucker has scarred my childhood psyche beyond repair. Some of you assumed, then, that I dislike pumpkin pie. Really? Do I look like a guy who doesn't like pumpkin pie?

Of course I like pumpkin pie, you silly geese! Pumpkin pie is like the ultimate victory over those vile orange gourds! I mean, we've ripped them from their vines, cut them up, boiled them, mashed them into orange paste, sugared and spiced them, and then for good measure we baked their candied asses in a pastry shell. And if that wasn't enough injustice to crush their already fragile psyches, then we squirt whipped cream on top of the pie and devour it. And then, as one final insult, we turn them into poo. I'd say that we're the winners in that battle, my friends. Yes, I love pumpkin pie!

How do you eat your pie? Settle down, perverts. I know the answer to that already, which is why the Comely and Buxom Boudicca has that smile on her face all the time. Hmmm...perhaps I've said too much. Anyway, how do you eat your pie, perverts? I go crust first. The baked part of the crust is my least favorite part. It's dry and crumbly. I don't do dry and crumbly too well. Sorry, that's just me. So, I eat the crust first, usually cutting it off the slice of pie with my fork and sweeping it through either the pie filling or the whipped cream. After I've polished off that little appetizer, I go right for the wedge, eating from the smaller vertex of the wedge of pie first and working my way down the warm and delicious triangle. That's lip-licking good!

It's tough to pick a favorite kind of pie. Like I tell my kids, there's really only one flavor of pie: delicious! This isn't true, because some people frankly can't cook. Plus, I've only ever had mince meat pie once. I think I liked it but...*shrugs helplessly*

A few of my other favorite pies are blueberry, old-fashioned cream, and my wife makes this fabulous lemon chess pie. And, of course, there's the old stand-by and standard for delicious, apple pie. I love you, apple pie, and I love you, America.

My least favorite pie? Hands down, pecan pie. I hate the shit. Growing up, when Thanksgiving rolled around, I thought there were only two kinds of pie to eat: pumpkin and pecan pie. The pumpkin would get slopped down first, and then there'd be this brown gooey mass sitting there, unappetizing and foul. I'd sigh and go without any more pie. Damn, I hate pecan pie. My brother loves the shit, though. He can have my share, and often he does. According to some reports, he ate 4/5 of a pecan pie last year at Thanksgiving.

I also hate peach pie, but that's more because I hate peaches. Even cobbler can't save their squishy, fuzzy asses when it comes to dessert time. Again, I'll opt for the apple when it comes to cobbler time.

Anyway, chances are, if you're reading this between 10 am and 6 pm, I'll be on the road. Pieless. And heading to a place where the pie to person ratio is going to be woefully unbalanced in the direction of the person. Seriously. It's like five pies to 19 people. That's nearly a 1:4 ratio. And one of those pies is pecan. Plus, my in-laws, they enjoy their pie, too.

I have a bad feeling that I'm going to go for pie and discover one tiny wedge of disgusting pecan pie.

Damn.

Anyone know if they make a pumpkin-pie flavored rum?