Meatball Mania

Nothing I write ever ends up being posted. That's another entry this week that's somehow been misplaced. And now I have to attempt to harness the power of wit in a captivating blog entry.
My very first university essay is due on Tuesday. This is all wonderful, except for the fact that it's worth 15% of my final grade. See, I don't do too well when I don't know what the teacher is expecting. Normally I would write an opinion piece so laden with subjective points that my teachers would die laughing. Unfortunately, this is not the kind of behaviour that goes over well with university professors. Hmmmm.
Did some cooking today. We made 8 dozen meatballs, 6 dozen cookies, 2 dozen muffins and two large lasagnas. Wonderful. Had a little escapade with the 8 pounds of ground beef, however.
It all began with a grease puddle. Anyone who's cooked ground beef knows that it oozes fat juice when it cooks. My cousin Natalie decides that this should be scooped out. Makes sense. But the stupid meat kept getting in the way, so she couldn't get all the juice out. I decided to help her. I pick up the enormous meat pot, and tip it to the side. It's working wonderfully. I was even being careful to not let any meat fall out.
Then it SNUCK AROUND THE BACK! That's right, I was holding the spoon against the edge of the pot, draining the juice, when EIGHT POUNDS OF HOT HAMBURGER SHAVINGS poured out. I swear, the stuff bounced. On the floor, on the over, under the oven, on the counter, in my socks, in Natalie's shirt and ON THE MICROWAVE (which is rather far away from the stove). Needless to say, we could have made quicte a few more meatballs, if it weren't for the vast amount of cat hair clinging to the ground beef.
Who wants to shave their meatballs before eating them?