It’s summer, and that means it’s time for everyone’s favorite drink! And also it’s time for lemonade!
Lemonade is something I have a personal connection with. I know, it seems like I have a personal connection with most of the foods on here. I have a connection with most foods that exist. Specifically, my mouth connects them. To my tummy and then later, butthole. But we’re talking about lemonade today, so I think that connects more with my peehole. I’m not sure, maybe shit is some percent the stuff you drink. I tried to search online and find out the percentages here. Then I got sidetracked. Sidetracked AND AROUSED.
My lemonade story involves rustic charm, a little bit of cuteness, and lemonade. And a story.
When I was a kid, I thought I needed to make some money. For kid stuff. Like for example, I had this idea to take the address of a house that wasn’t occupied yet, and I’d get Playboy delivered there, and then I’d get a couple months of Playboy. This was before pornography was a click away, when you had to work for it, and “it” was three issues from a year-long description, and maybe you get the issue where Marge Simpson is the centerfold. I like Marge and all, but…I don’t need to explain how that’s not the same. Uh, maybe it’s time for another picture.
To make money, I thought, Hey, lemonade stand! I got a card table, and a poster board that had my science project on one side, and the other side was mostly empty except for the pencil outline of my original science project, which was about the science of getting your hands on Playboy through a method that turns out to be sort of mail fraud. And it turns out that it’s not science in any way.
With my card table and a sign that said “Lemonade,” I was ready. I even drew a yellow cross on it. Get it, like First Aid, but Lemon instead of First? And Ade instead of Aid. But you can figure out that one.
All I needed was some lemonade. Now, at the time, all I had was squeeze lemon juice and brown sugar. This made a delicious lemonade. It was brown, it was very thick, it was grainy, it was warm. And after drinking an entire pitcher, I felt amazing for about 20 minutes.
I woke up at the end of the driveway. At some point I must’ve rolled down. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but y’know, a life in food isn’t without mishap. Haha, one time I found myself trying to use a mixer, and my penis got involved, and before I knew it the
So here’s the recipe. I know you really wanted to hear that wonderful story before the recipe. Because when you googled “Lemonade recipe” what you meant was “long-winded story about lemonade, recipe optional.”
Recipe
Click here for recipe in slideshow format. Or maybe it’s a link to another ad. Roll the dice! Live a little!