French Veal Chops

Valentine's Day - a time to tell someone how you really feel about them. Check out the one and only Katherine Harris here.

Goddamn, she knows how to melt Dick Cheney's butter.

I'm gunning for you, Tits On A Pony (her Comanche name) - my love thing.

And let me tell you, Dick Cheney has had his share of the 'love' thing - maybe more than most - quite likely above average. I've experienced sexual intercourse with numerous women in a variety of odd positions and remain convinced to this day that they received pleasure, despite a few protestations to the contrary.

Regardless of what you hear, Dick Cheney's rockets never leave the launchpad too soon.

Dick Cheney is an 'E' ticket ride, baby.

I'd like to reveal to you, my cyberspace friend, some of the ins and outs of love that I have mastered over the years - 'Dick Cheney's Notes on Love,' as it were. May they assist in leading to copulation with a chosen partner - preferably male and female together, although I'm not against hot lesbo sex as long as my wife and daughter remain uninvolved.

First, know your limitations.

You, the average person, cannot pull the quality tail that those of us who number ourselves among life's successes can. Successful people, such as myself, have different venues and arenas opened before us that you, the average person, cannot fathom. Don't allow your reach to exceed your grasp.

In short, fuck whomever you can.

Second, there is no God.

Take what you can without regard to some misbegotten notion of a deity who will punish your transgressions in some afterlife.

This is it.

Nobody's watching.

Get it while you can.

Finally, alcohol is your best friend.

I would estimate that 95% of my sexual conquests have resulted from alcohol consumption - almost all instances on the part of the other party. Enough alcohol will leave most women either barely conscious or, if you're lucky, completely unconscious. Either way their defenses are down. Reverting back to my second point, this is no time to back off. You've put in the effort to get this far, why stop now?

Fuck her (or him).

And now, I'm off to buy a few bottles of the bubbly to share with Miss Katherine Harris, but first a recipe to start the ball rolling on that successful summit attempt.

Nothing says love like veal. In March of 1998, before my current ascension while slaving away at Halliburton, I was invited to dinner at the home of Texas homebuilder, Bob Perry. Now, the guy's a major nutjob, believes Jesus is leading him to help a Republican takeover of Texas and the US, believes in having no real government whatsoever (we're working on that, btw), and funded the greatest con of all time with the Swiftboat boys, but that night he and the missus put out a spread that even a French-speaking, windsurfing Trotskyite would have loved. After a somewhat dull evening spent discussing the ramifications of Chinese lumber vs. Canadian lumber, I requested the recipe for this meat and received it from a caterer some weeks hence.

I've renamed the meal appropriately.

Freedom Veal Chops

INGREDIENTS
2 veal chops (1-inch thick)
1/2 teaspoon salt
Dash pepper
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 tablespoons butter, divided
1/4 cup chicken broth
1/3 cup dry bread crumbs
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

DIRECTIONS
Sprinkle veal chops with salt and pepper. In a skillet, brown chops on both sides in oil. Sprinkle onion into a greased shallow baking dish; dot with 1 tablespoon butter. Top with chops; drizzle with broth. Melt remaining butter; toss with bread crumbs and Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle over top.

Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees F for 30-35 minutes or until meat is no longer pink and a meat thermometer reads 160 degrees F.

Note: If you can't afford veal, let me suggest something from the fine folks at McDonald's and perhaps a few bottles of Boone's Farms finest vintage.

It gets you where you want to go.