Kiss my ass Aunt Jemima.

Yesterday morning I made pancakes. As I was enjoying my lumpy blackened pancakes I read the cover, back, and sides of the pancake mix box. On the front of the box is a little boy enjoying the most perfectly browned, ciricular stack of flapjacks I've ever seen. I began to wonder if anyone ever gets their pancakes to turn out like that... I've never made a perfect pancake before. I think that's why I never make pancakes. They've always turned out so damn ugly, and even though they usually taste fine their hideous nature totally turns me off. I scoffed at the pancake box. Fuck no. Making a perfect pancake at home must be impossible. How dare Aunt Jemima decieve consumers into thinking their pancakes could be so beautiful. So symmetrical. So light and fluffy and golden delicious. I decided the only way such a pancake was to exist in the home was if it had been made by a grandpa. But this morning something miraculous happened. I woke up at 6 today. Dont know why, I don't have to be out of the house until 9... anyhow, I decided I still liked pancakes and I wanted to have them for breakfast. So I'm making my pancakes, and the first one is ugly. Just like yesterday. Whatever. BUT THEN, as I poured my second liquid pancake it began to leech across my pan into a perfect circle. Holy baby Jesus. So it was round. Shit. It gets better though. I'm watching this beautiful pancake bubble and I'm like, "OH! time to flip this fucker..." and upon turning the bugger over I experienced the amazing beauty of a perfect golden pancake. Angels sang. Lightning struck. Thunder roared. Pitty though. I was so excited by the color of my pancake that I flipped it all-strange-like and ruined its shape. BUT I DIDN'T CARE. NO SIR. I HAD JUST CREATED AN ALMOST PERFECT PANCAKE. A FEAT, UNTIL NOW, ONLY ACCOMPLISHED BY GRANDPAS. Hot damn. Upon seeing the silky tan exterior on the first side of my cake I felt sure that the other must be doomed to a charred and ugly fate. BUT NO! IT TOO RESEMBELED PERFECTION! I couldn't believe it. I figured the pancake must be fucked up somehow, so I poked the middle to see what would happen. I got nothing. No demons. So. I did it. I made a pancake worthy of Jemima front-of-the-box fame. Sans the floppy side and the poke-hole in the middle. And I am NOT a GRANDPA! Kiss my ass Aunt Jemima.