Wednesday, April 11, 2007

You can feeel your heart slowin down

Courtesy of the marvelous growabrain, a link to the best thing ever: Deep-Fried Butter Balls. For reals. Listen to me here, Internets:

of butter.

It’s a heart attack on a plate, a quadruple bypass waiting to happen. And it also sounds FUCKING DELICIOUS. Blame it on my Faulty Upbringing, if you want, but I’m game for pretty much anything deep-fried (remember on King of the Hill, when Dale and Boomhauer got a huge dang ol’ deep-fryer, and set about deep-frying anything that wasn’t nailed down, up to and including a whole, unopened can of beer? It’s kind of like that, with me). In my day-to-day life, I don’t eat a lot of the deep-fried, and that is one of the reasons I do not weigh four hundred pounds, but I probably could if I wanted (I am of hearty country stock, and I conclude from recent cholesterol and blood-pressure numbers that although someday, SOMETHING is going to take me to the big Smiths concert in the sky, it won’t be the butter or the salt, yo).

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Blogger Melanie said...

but...but...HOW?! i mean, i loves me some fried things, but wouldn't that just squirt scalding hot grease down your throat and lead to blistering? i mean, i guess you could let it cool to just warm, and it would be like a Southern Fried version of Soup Dumplings.

i'm way behind. i still haven't tried the deep-fried Oreos at the county fair. well, mostly because i don't eat anything at the fair that is near the color of cockroaches.

6:35 PM  
Blogger Sarah said...

Melanie, that is a fantastic motto.

8:15 PM  
Blogger bgirl said...

Did you catch Not Martha's deep frying adventures recently? The Twinkies, the Snickers Bar? I'm more of a savory deep-fry fan. Hushpuppies alone could sustain my existence.

7:06 AM  

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