a good recipe

Disclaimer: this was Ellie’s recipe right up until the moment I stole it.
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How to make a rockin dip that all the peeps will love wherever you go:
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First, clear all the shit off of your butcher block and look for a photo angle that hides all the other shit on all the other pieces of furniture.
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Now gather your ingredients, then thow a fit in a vain search for the tiny can of sliced olives that you bought and paid for, but are NOT FUCKING HERE
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Okay, take a deep breath. Get an assistant you can boss around. Make him wash his hands. Twice. We all know where those hands have been.
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Laugh at the assistant as he gags over the smell of the cream cheese he is being bossed into “spreading” into a glass pie dish.

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Here's a teachable moment: explain to your assistant how you’re going to slice the ½ onion in one direction, then turn it to complete the dice. Turn your attention away momentarily to bag the other ½ onion, then check very closely to make sure there are no fingertips in the onion that your assistant has taken to town with your carving knife.
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Have a heart attack.
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Give your assistant a slightly smaller knife, and set him loose. Dump prettily chopped onion on top of the cream cheese

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Instruct your assistant to open the cans of beans and chiles. Watch, mock, and of course photograph before you help him

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Marvel at how young and old he is at the same time. Tell him no he may not open all of the cans in the pantry now that he has mastered the technique.

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Dump the chiles (leave what sticks inside the can) and beans (with juices) on top of the onions, commingling everything harmoniously. Stop your assistant from stirring hard enough to cause tectonic rupture of the cream cheese
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Dump salsa on top of harmonious mess. Begrudgingly agree with your assistant’s assessment that it looks like barf.
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Coax your reluctant cheese-phobic assistant to sprinkle the vile substance all over the top. Promise him for the eighty fifth time that you will not force him to eat the disgusting cheese. Or the barf dip.

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Sprinkle the stuck chiles over the cheese. Curse about how this is where the olives would go as well, dammit. And would bring the colors together so nicely.
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Cover with foil and cook until it reaches the temperature and consistency of hot, molten lava. About an hour at 350.
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The dip must then sit and settle for at least 20 minutes, or you will scald yourself and your friends and you’ll never be invited to another party. This cooling is nicely accomplished on the drive west to the lovely soon-to-be-ex-house of your even lovelier co-blogger, whom you have totally bullied into having this sunset party. Think about that view and the good friends you will see. Ignore your assistant’s remarks in the car indicating that he’d rather smell farts than smell that cheesy barf dip.
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When you arrive, ignore everyone. Open the chips and park your ass in front of this magnum opus. Growl menacingly like cujo when anyone else tries to get close enough for a bite.

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To finish the recipe, add one blender full of boozy watermelon
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One perfect sunset, and lots of great friends.

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It’s a keeper.