You know what makes me sick? You know what makes me so mad I just wanna get into a tree chopping contest – with Paul Bunyan? Yeah – today I got a bone to pick with Aunt Jemima. She’s a shifty scam-artist. And it’s not just her, neither. It’s also Log Cabin… Mrs. Butterworth… Martha White… Krusteze… Betty Crocker, for heaven’s sake! It’s the whole dang pancake industry.
They been running their pancake scam long enough – and it’s about time some brave American called’em on it. And that brave American – would be me.
See – what happened was this. We wake up Saturday morning – and my old lady is already out of the house… ‘Bargain hunting’ with the neighbor-lady Naomi. Well – I don’t care what they do – as long as it don’t involve me – or too much money.
So my little boy, Earl Junior goes… ‘Hey, Daddy let’s make us some pancakes.’ I’ll tell you what – I raised that kid right. True red-blooded American kid… Wanting a true American breakfast. Pancakes… Flapjacks… Griddle-cakes. I was gonna throw some sausage on the stove too.
How I did it
So I get the pancake mix out of the cupboard… And I read the back. Because I love pancakes but I don’t make’em myself too much. And here’s the recipe for 6-to-8 pancakes. That’s three to four for each of us. Which sounds wonderful on a Saturday morning this time of year, right? One cup of mix… Three-quarters of a cup of water… Yep, yep… Put that all together while the griddle is getting screaming hot.
I pour the batter on the griddle. There’s two pancakes. I look at the back of the box again. There’s supposed to be six to eight. I got two. Did I do something wrong? My little boy goes… ‘Maybe they’re thinking smaller pancakes, Daddy.’ Well – huh. I got two pancakes. On the contrary, they are not giant pancakes. Fact is – they could have been poured as one pancake – but I would’a been afraid to flip it. One pancake each – that is not a good way to start your day.
So listen you pancake industry flap-jack hustlers. There’s no way that’s six to eight pancakes. Not on this planet… Not nowhere in this Universe.
Wake up, America! That’s right – I’m calling you out Aunt Jemima. Come clean and change the back of your box. We don’t need more breakfast victims in this country. I’m Earl Pitts, American. Pitts Off!
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