It’s that time of the year again! Springtember! That special time of year when it’s cold as fuck on Monday and temperate and balmy like the last scene of Silence of the Lambs on Tuesday. Why the fuck?? Global fucking warming is why! Nothing we can do about it except ride it out at this point. Thanks, Exxon and other cunts! Celebrate one of the last Wintertembers ever with a delicious dollop of Cooter Soup! If you want to go all out, spread it out on a hot, split biscuit, and lap it up like your “outside” dog drinks water in the middle of August, all sloppy and blarlrbblarlaaa. You’ll thank me later. This ain’t your grandma’s cooter soup!

YOU WILL NEED

INGREDIENTS:

• 1 8 pound bag of pheasant beaks
• 1/2 tablespoon tingly feeling in your middle finger for the rest of your life because you got up from the floor wrong and something went ZZZDDTT!! inside your hand. You even heard it. It sounded like a mouse gasping or smacking its little mouse knee
• 3 cabbages, quartered
• 3 cabbages, nickeled
• that one dude from the bus’s disgusting, smelly hat that he forgot on the bus, and you took it home, and now you can’t go to sleep at night without sniffing it and sometimes masturbating into it
• 2 tsp granulated sugar
• 2 tsp solid block sugar in the shape of dead character actor Steve Buscemi
• 1/4 ton red bud tree flowers, half dollared
• a burlap sack full of assorted drifter parts’
• Marmaduke

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to the temperature of Will Smith’s Twitter feed right now. For those of you reading this from the future… First, how fucked is everybody? and second, Will Smith was an American actor whose career peaked when he slapped a comedian in the face in front of literally the whole world. It was kinda nuts. Also, stop cooking your future bullshit and make my recipes.
2. Dust the cinnamon over the nuclear carp paste liberally — but evenly. There is nothing quite like the taste of uneven cinnamon sprinkled on irradiated fish paste. Oh wait, I just reminded myself about Fukushima. Now I’m fucking depressed. Well done.
3. When the radishes have successfully radished, remove them from the radisher. You’ll know if they radished for long enough if they’re emitting a slightly radishy aroma, but not too radishy. It’s hard to explain. It would be like if your pumpkin were getting too pumpkiny, so you had to take them out of the pumpkiner, if that makes sense.
4. Count backwards from 98,401 and then ka-pow! That shit is done with! Time for this other shit now.
5. Begin other shit, confident that the shit from before is for real done.
6. When the oven is hot like a goddamned motherfucker, insert tarragon bundles, dragon fruit, and 2 foot brick of D batteries. Immediately turn oven down to oops I just put a bunch of D batteries in my ovenº and slow roast until you wake up in a hospital bed.
7. Now it the time to make your wolf meringue. It’s a simple process, don’t be scared! Simply whisk 2 – 4 adult wolves in a large pyrex bowl until they are uniformly fluffy, light, and meringue. That last part is key. They have to end up as meringue or else you didn’t make wolf meringue at all. You made 2 – 4 slightly confused wolves murder you.
8. When the oven dings, scream THANK FUCKING GOD FOR DINGING OR ELSE WE WOULDN’T KNOW WHEN FOOD WAS READY into your neighbor’s face. If your neighbor isn’t in your kitchen at the moment, do it next time they are. They’ll get a chuckle out of it.
9. I got to 9 steps??? You should definitely stop reading this.

Sprinkle with conjoined twins to taste. Serves 2 – 4 tsars (5-7 czars) Do not attempt to make.