Got a meat thermometer? That's your best way to tell.
Spike's Bitches 32: I think I'm sobering up.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Clear juices are a good sign. And it will keep cooking while it's on the counter.
Got a meat thermometer?
What temp, though?
And thanks, brenda!
I am such a cooking failure.
Amy, the breast cooks more quickly than some other parts of the bird. Maybe put it back in for another little bit, til the other juices run clear.
What temp, though?
A billion. Celcius.
Ppplllbbbttt.
I took it out. The leg juices look clear now.
And I can't find the thermometer anyway. This kitchen has, like, seven thousand used cereal bags and about a bazillion used twist ties, but actual tools? Not so much.
I didn't hear how her incision was closed, but I can guarantee you her cervix is a perky little smiley-face right now.
Signed, The Cervix Lady
Hee.
I was taped.
WE LOVE YOU CERVIX LADY!!!
And you know, the look on your face when you got that phone call is still in my top ten moments of ever.
Drew hanging up the phone and saying, "What? I have no boundaries!" is one of my favorites.