Ok, so we had a potluck at work this Halloween and I wanted, as always, to be dorktastic and keep to the theme. Obviously I could have done something lame and obvious like “Worms in Dirt” or “Ghost Cookies” or an “Aborted Fetus”, but I really felt like going with something a little more classic with a morbid twist.
And being that I have a ridiculous crush on Once Upon a Time’s amazing evil queen, Regina, I was inspired to whip something together in her honor.
Her obsession with apples has actually gotten me hooked on the things. I’ll admit, I eat them with a fantasy in my head about how she gave them to me and that one of them (some lucky day) will be poisoned and then she’ll regret her decision and have to lay one on me to bring me back to consciousness.
It’s not so far fetched; some of you think Jesus is magic. Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to.
Anyway I decided to make ‘Regina’s Poisoned Apple Pie’; the poison being a splash of bourbon.
Here’s what you’re going to need:
6 medium (3 large) Honey Crisp Apples (Please note: The apples must be Honey Crisp, as they are Regina’s favorite, and otherwise the apple pie is not ‘Regina’s Poisoned Apple Pie’, it’s just ‘Your Shitty Granny Smith Apple Pie’.
¾ cup mixed white and brown sugar (Because we’re progressive up in this bitch and it tastes better that way.)
¾ tablespoon cinnamon
2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon lemon juice
⅛ tablespoon nutmeg
¼ tablespoon salt
1 egg white
Two frozen pie crusts (Because we don’t have all fucking day)
Splash of Bourbon
Step One: Go ahead and pre-heat the oven to 425. It saves time and, if you’re like me (skimpy on the gas), keeps you warmer.
Step Two: Get to chopping on those apples. I prefer them chunked, but if you feel frisky, go ahead and slice. Two important notations: Don’t peel them, because it’s time consuming and unnecessary. And don’t leave the seeds in. Apple seeds can be poisonous if consumed and we’re not trying to take the clever title that far.
Step Three: In a bowl, mix together sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, flour, lemon juice and bourbon. Then pour in the apples and get those hands dirty. Mix until everything is good and sugary, then dump it in one of the pie crusts.
Step Four: In a small bowl, froth egg white and half a teaspoon of white sugar. Put the remaining pie crust on top and brush it with your froth.
Step Five: Cut some small slices in the top crust and shove that bitch in the oven for about 40-45 minutes.
Step six: Pull out, let cool for about 20 minutes, and just be awesome.
And I must say, it was fantastic... Just like Regina.
After experiencing this dream, that's still kind of sticking with me, I decided to put it here. If I took the time to type it out at 3am It's definitely going somewhere.
I just woke up from what may be the most tragically beautiful dream I think I’ve ever had. Jen and I were asleep and we started to hear war sirens (or something) going off. So, we both looked outside and saw school buses up and down the neighborhood. I went outside to see what was going on and they said that they were evacuating under military orders and that we need to hurry.
Ok, so we also had a goat (for some odd reasons) and I told Jen to just grab the goat, because he’d be the biggest problem, and take him on the bus and I’d grab some stuff and follow with Sam. But I saw the bus pull off without me and I saw Jen trying to fight them, but it was too late. Jen being taken out of my dream to put me in a state of panic and despair.
Then things got worse. I heard that there was another bus down the road and that I might be able to catch it. But on the way Sam Got attacked by one of the dogs in the neighborhood and was hurt pretty bad. I had to take him back home to get him fixed up, but the wound was deep.
The dream kind of skipped forward to later when Sam was in dire need and the world was absolutely horrible. Apparently I heard at some point that there was a doctor in this ridiculously scary metal bar. So, I took us in there because I didn’t know what else to do. Because, without Sam, it honestly didn’t matter anyway.
They had Penicillin, which was what I needed, and these creepy Neo Nazi looking sadists wanted to take it out in trade, so I literally agreed to let them beat me and I remember specifically that they put cigarettes out on me, and called me a dog because they thought it was ridiculous that I was doing that for a dog.
At the end of it all, they gave me the medicine and I felt the only real happiness I had in the entire dream because I knew I wouldn’t lose Sam... But I had to find food and shelter for us.
Then we bumped into Lucy Lawless (Xena) who was a reporter of some kind and she was doing a broadcast about the safe places people were bussed to. Everything about me filled with hope and after she was finished I asked her where this place was.
This is where the dream did the thing that dreams do, and you can’t actually hear/communicate with the person. When I finally did get an answer from her, she just looked at me sadly and told me it was a lie. She was given lodging and food to perpetuate it, but that ultimately the world was just a huge piece of shit.
At this point in the dream, I literally turned into a little boy (Henry from Once Upon a Time to be exact). I’m sure it was because my hero just metaphorically died in front of my eyes. I didn’t actually notice this change until the dream started to dissipate and I began to wake up, but I was just a helpless child.
I found this disgusting dump of an old Sam’s Club for me us stay in. It had cots for people to sleep on and plenty of cockroaches to go around. Even with the body of a little boy I worked moving heavy boxes around. And they let us stay there and gave us food. At the very end of the dream, I just remember coming ‘home’ to Sam. And seeing him happy, even with his scar and feeling so grateful that I had him. And I told him that I was going to find a way to get us out of that place and hugged him to me. It was peaceful and somehow filled with hope.
I woke up absolutely weeping. And then I couldn’t sleep so, of course, I analyzed every part that I could remember, and I’m sure that it all can trace back to some level of ‘fucked up’ that I am. But instead of figuring out what’s wrong with me, I’m kind of focused on the one thing I really learned. And it’s this: as long as you have the capacity to love, as long as you have something to love, you can find a way to survive even the most horrible situations.
And it was specifically the giving aspect of love that seemed more powerful than anything to me in the dream. It was like a light or a fire. Something warm and pure. A fuel in the darkest and most desolate of times and places.
People think that survival is the main force that pushes us to do what we do, but I don’t think I can buy that anymore; at least not for all of us. For me, in that dream, it was literally nothing more than loving a dog. Even after I’d lost everything, and was almost completely destroyed as a person, it still kept me going, and breathing, and working and hoping.
I also learned that Jen and I will NEVER, EVER, EVER own a fucking goat.
