Shannon's Kitchen

healthy food. inappropriate language. zero fucks given.


Making faux-rice out of cauliflower seems like a tossbaggish sort of thing to do. And it probably is. But if you need to up your vegetable intake, or you are a Colonel-Fatz looking to cut calories/carbs, then you may be willing to embrace this tossbaggery for the greater good of a healthy inner-arse and sexual outer-arse. Let me warn you about something fucking serious, though: you may want to avoid preparing this dish in front of a new lover – when you finely chop the cruciferous ragamuffin that is cauliflower, it stinks so much like farts. So much. The first time I made it, I was so convinced my ring-piece had made a terrible mistake that I kept turning around to sniff my own arse in confusion. I looked like a large, shaggy dog chasing its mother-fucking tail. I wasn’t too self-conscious as my only company was my husband and as if I give a fuck. Regardless, you’ve been warned. Now, let’s talk balls. The recipe for the Sweet Meaty Balls is stolen. But because I’m not a cunt, I will tell you it came from the Can’t Be F*cked Paleo book written by My Food Religion. Let’s not hold that asterisk against her, she’s a top bird. This shit is pretty quick and easy to prepare so you’ll have plenty of time to play x-box or touch your whistle. Or work on world peace or whatever.

Ingredients: serves 3‘ish

Sweet Meaty Balls:

– 500g lamb mince

– 2 tablespoons honey

– 2 tablespoons fresh rosemary, finely chopped

– 2 eggs

– 2 tablespoons coconut flour (or almond meal)

– 1 grated carrot

– salt and pepper to suit your tastebuds (don’t be a fuckhead and over-salt and give your kidneys a hard time – those guys are nice and we need them)

Cauliflower Rice-Shit:

– half a head of cauliflower, pulsed in a food processor so it resembles a sad version of rice

– 1 small onion, chopped

– 1 red capsicum, finely sliced

– 250g sliced mushrooms

– a few giant handfuls of some green shit like spinach or kale

– fair bit of rosemary, finely chopped

– 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar (or lemon juice if you’re anti-vinegar. But if you’re anti-vinegar you’re fucking missing out)

– 1 tablespoon honey

– 1 teaspoon minced ginger

– 1 teaspoon minced garlic

– a sprinkle of cinnamon

– a bee’s dick portion size of oil

Cook this shit:

– let’s get the balls out of the way. Throw all the ingredients in a bowl and use your paws to smoosh that stuff together. Make it into balls or patties or skewers or whatever the fuck tickles your fancy. They’ll be sticky as all fuck, so don’t be surprised or think you’ve cocked it up

– heat a large frypan over a medium-high heat and bang your chosen oil in there. Cooking time will vary on how you like your meat (and the shape you elected). I made big balls because I’m dirty and excellent, and I cooked them for about 9 minutes with very frequent turning so the little hoohers didn’t burn

– once they’re out, sit them on a plate to calm down

– want to save on dishes? Re-use that friggin’ frypan. Throw the onion, capsicum, garlic and ginger in there and sizzle that shit for 2 minutes

– now get your mushrooms, cinnamon and rosemary in on the action and cook for another 2 minutes

– it’s time to make the situation juicy (like that time my friend Jess showed me the photo of Jamie Foxx with his dingaling out). Pop the honey and vinegar in there and then make it a real party by throwing in the stinky cauliflower. Let that all cook together for about another 3 minutes

– that’s it. Make a Cauliflower Rice-Shit bed and bang the Sweet Meaty Balls on top and you have yourself a pretty flash, healthy, quick dinner. Serving it with red wine seems like a fucking sensible thing to do because what’s the point in being a grown-up if you don’t seize these opportunities?

Who the fuck farted?

Shannon x

P.S. I’m not a paleo-dudette. I’m pretty sure if ancient humans had wandered out of their snug little caves and saw a mother-fucking bag of M&Ms on the terrain, their seasonal vegetables would have hit the ground faster than a drunk girl in stilettos.


The cookie monster is onto something. Don’t let his crazed eyeballs and drugged-like fever fool you, he is a clever monster because his addiction is a worthy one. Cookies are amazing. They’re crunchy and sweet. So are apples, but put an apple next to a cookie and I bet you can guess which one I would tell to get fucked. I love cookies. Now, these Slightly Naughty Mostly Healthy cookies contain gluten, so you will just have to accept that. Unless of course you are allergic to it, in which case, you are excused and please don’t eat these because that would be silly. These cookies’ health factor is boosted with B-group vitamins, fibre and omega-3, so we can have the energy to chomp these crunchy fuckers and do amazing shits and get super excited and not have a heart attack from all this celebratory action.



Ingredients: makes 12

– 1/2 cup coconut oil (or melted butter or ghee or whatever)

– 1/3 cup coconut sugar (I can almost hear some eyelids squelching as eyes roll in sockets. Why coconut sugar? It releases energy slower than brown sugar and is much higher in minerals like magnesium, zinc and iron. You can buy it at the supermarket and it won’t fuck up your cookies. Nurse’s honour)

– 1 egg

– 1 teaspoon vanilla extract or paste

– 1 teaspoon cinnamon

– 2 tablespoons flaxseed meal (also called ground flaxseed or some shit)

– 1 tablespoon nutritional yeast (ok, you might have to go to the health shop for this one. But it adds heaps of B-group vitamins and a weird but good flavour)

– 1/2 cup SR wholemeal flour

– 2/3 cup rolled oats

-1/4 teaspoon salt

– 3 tablespoons desiccated coconut

– 1/4 cup of whatever the fuck you want to jazz your cookies up with. I choose chocolate chips because I’m dirty and excellent. Dried fruit like sultanas or whatever is also acceptable

Let’s cookie:

– get your oven on 180

– mix your coconut oil and coconut sugar together, then add in the egg and vanilla shit

– next, stir in that flaxseed meal, cinnamon and nutritional yeast and feel the health factor go fucking BOOM

– your flour is the next amigo to join the party. Throw him in and stir him through. When that’s evenly dispersed, bang the oats , salt and coconut in and stir

– what did you choose to jazz up your cookies? Get it in there

– righto, now we need to make this doughy shit into cookies. Use your hands and make little balls slightly smaller than a golf ball (I went to a driving range a few weeks ago and was mildly successful, so I feel justified to use golfing references at will). Pop the balls on a baking-paper covered tray, and then squash them down into cookies. If it helps to visualise that they belong to an awful gent that you know, so be it

– pop those little fellas into the oven for 10-13 minutes and pull them out when they’re looking golden. Let them cool their jets on a rack for a few minutes so they can muster up maximum crunch

Fuck, that’s good,

Shannon x


So, whether it’s me or some other health-talkin’-doodlebug, there is one pretty clear message about food: eat more fucking vegetables. Everyone agrees vegetables win: clean-eaters, paleo-promoters and normal-nutritionists. Some no-carb clowns might turn their noses up at vegetables but, trust me, their meat-encrusted-bowels are god damn gagging for it. To deny that vegetables are a universal good would be as foolish as thinking Ryan Gosling could walk through a city with his trousers descended without being mounted by several humans (and possibly by some other medium sized mammals too). That hot fucker is gonna get done. Now, I’m not saying we should mount our vegetables, no, don’t try that, because if they snap off you will have some very uncomfortable explaining to do in the Emergency Room. Everyone will know you did not ‘trip’ and fall on that zucchini. Despite ruling out straddling them, we should give vegetables the respect they deserve and get them inside us somehow. This dish is the way: it is all about the veg. Of course, we can’t let those cheeky, fibrous rascals get past our tastebuds in their natural, boring state. Fuck no. They need to be revved up.  Enter: spices, creamy shit, and one dash of fuck yeah.

Ingredients: serves 2 or 3 depending on greed levels

– 1 cup frozen peas

– 1 tablespoon green curry paste (look, the proper thing would probably be to make your own curry paste, but I’m not going to fucking do that)

– 1 cup of coconut milk

– 2 zucchini

– 1 small sweet potato, peeled

– 1 small eggplant

– a couple of handfuls of roasted cashews

– lime wedges to serve

– a little oil for frying your veggies (I think coconut oil is the oil of choice in this dish, without a doubt)

Optional: 200g rice noodles

Optional and not advised: if you’re one of those dipsticks who just has to put meat in every fucking dish, then bloody hell, try it with scallops. But fuck, mate, keep it light

How to cook this championesque dish:

– boil your peas up, they need to be pretty well-cooked because we’re going to smoosh that shit up

– next start turning your other vegetables (zucchini, sweet potato and eggplant) into noodles. You really need a friggin’ spiraliser (mine cost about $30 off the internet-machine) or some serious bloody patience to cut the veggies up in fine strips reminiscent of noodles

– drain your peas, and get those little fellas into a blender with the green curry paste and half the coconut milk and whizz that business until it’s smooth’ish

– get a fry pan/wok heating up over a high heat. Bang some oil in when she’s good and ready

– get your vegetable noodles in there and toss them around like a crazy son of a bitch. They’ll cook pretty friggin’ quickly so don’t get too caught up in the fun of it all

– after a minute or two, get that spicy green pureed shit in on the action. Prepare for a battle because that shit will hiss and spit at you like an angry ex-lover. Just keep stirring it, and dodge the zingers that come your way

– after a minute, that should be smelling pretty friggin’ great. Pop the remaining coconut milk in there and watch that all calm down. Stir it up, then let it simmer again, and you’re done

– if you elected to have rice noodles then prepare them as per their packet’s instructions and get them involved

– serve it up and get a lime wedge on there and squeeze the juice over when you’re ready to hook in

– the world knows we need some fucking crunch in our dishes, so go ahead and toss some cashews on top (unless you’re allergic to them, in which case, don’t do that, that’s silly)

– if you want to jazz that mother-fucker right up, then toss a little handful of coriander on top. No one will question your class with a tuft of fresh herbs atop their vegetable noodles

It’s a guaranteed Dream Shit,

Shannon x


There is some wanky elitism entrenched in healthy eating, and there are more than a few rascals overdoing it on the Internet-Machine. I refer to such toss-bags as “The Kanyes of Healthy Eating”. They have very fixed ideas and are not shy about sharing them: they are friggin’ roosters. Sometimes they are dickheads.


– They will regularly feature obnoxious images of themselves looking as hot as fuck. Taunting you. How does get rooted sound, mate? Unless you’re hiding an enema kit and a gram of cocaine in your swimsuit, fuck off out of my Instagram feed, because you’re not going to help me get a flat tummy overnight.

– They don’t seem to grasp that most individuals do not have the time or inclination to dedicate a gargantuan portion of their existence to food preparation. Some people just want to eat a quick, healthy meal and then go pull their dick.

– They ignore the spirit of debate and delete questioning comments. “Your diet can cure autism? Can you explain the mechanism behind this?” DELETED. That’s shithouse.

– They rooster incorrect factoids and disseminate general bullshit. Like the overstatement that “anything you don’t recognise on a food label is bad”. Let’s consider this simple example: ascorbic acid. Ascorbic fucking acid in my food? Yes, mate. Ascorbic acid is nerd-speak for Vitamin C, and it’s fine to eat it. Scientists don’t give things cute, friendly fucking names. They’re jerks like that. But they’re probably smart enough to kill us all, so let’s just leave them be.

– A food-dickhead’s page may be dotted with positive life affirmations that just make regular people want to punch them in their nasolabial folds and/or genitals.

– They don’t seem to realise that normal people don’t drink friggin’ smoothies/juices/any-fucking-beverage out of fucking jars. Normal people use cups like normal fucking people. Those jars are inappropriate receptacles for beverages. They need to stop it.


– Remember that variety is the key. This concept doesn’t work as well for your sexual health as it could result in your dick falling off or your vagina becoming a cesspool of viral plague.

– Offer to remove the kale that is stuck in their teeth with your fists.

– Remember that everyone is different and different bodies thrive on different foods. Identify your own health needs. Find your sweet spot where your bodies and your tongues are fucking rejoicing. When you find it, be shameless and hold it tighter than a diarrhoea-filled rectum.

– Acknowledge that your body may be a temple, but sometimes it just wants to be Hooters.

Eat healthy shit but don’t be wankers about it.

Yours in health and friggin’ awesomeness,

Shannon x


Pretty much every Aussie kid can remember chomping down on a delicious, crackly hunk of diabetes: chocolate friggin’ crackles. In my day, they were the party drug for 6-year-olds, and god damn it, we were pinging. Have yourself 2 crackles, and my friend, you are set for one hell of a ride. You would be pinning the tail on a rainbow-surfing donkey and then the next thing you know, you’re french kissing that son of a bitch. You’re blowing party blowers like there’s no tomorrow, and you could pass that fucking parcel for 2 days straight. But then you have the come down. Ohhhhhhhhhh. The drop in blood sugar and the associated doom and gloom, the throwing of toys, the senseless rage, the unexplained sores. Strewth. If only we could have the crack(le) hit without the aftermath. We can. Lets be crazy kids again and shamelessly hit the chocolate crack like a pack of half-starved dogs. It’s fucking party time.

Ingredients: makes about 16 little’ns

– 2 cups puffed brown rice

– the smallest, cutest little pinch of salt

– 1/3 cup coconut oil

– 1 tablespoon raw cacao powder (use 2 if you like shit rich)

– 1/4 cup rice malt syrup (or maple syrup or whatever sweetener you like)

– 1/2 cup desiccated coconut

Let’s get crack-a-lackin’:

– get the coconut oil in a saucepan and heat him gently until he liquefies

– whisk your oil, syrup and cocoa together until the brown has overcome the goo in a uniform manner

– chuck in the puffed rice, salt and coconut. Give it a gentle stir so you don’t crush the puffs like you’re the fucking Hulk

– now, spoon that mixture into some patty pans

– get those cheeky little pups into the fridge. Wait until they’re firm, then get that gear inside you

– keep them in the fridge, they turn to shit in warmth


Let’s do it, crackwhores,

Shannon x


The fear of healthifying a cracker, is the potential for flaccidity. Nobody wants to bite into a cracker that is as limp as a 20-beer dick. Nobody. My crackers are bloody brilliant – crunchy and healthy. They are made from flaxseeds. Fucking seeds, people. How good is that? They are full of omega-3 fatty acids and fibre, so both your heart and your arsehole will be having an excellent day. They have another nutritious ingredient, but it’s far less charming – it’s yeast. Yeast is a tough one to get excited about, really, given that it’s the stuff that can turn a perfectly lovely vagina into a stench-trench, or a delicately soft set of balls into an aged coin-purse that has been dipped in cheese-whizz and left in the sun. But the cheesifying powers of yeast aren’t just for evil – the nutritional variety adds a cheese-like flavour and a ka-boom hit of B vitamins. How grand! Flavour wise, these crackers are very plain – they are merely a munchable receptacle for tasty dips or cheeses (or foie gras for the soulless among us). So, if you demand flavour, take note of the optional additions and make it happen. Please note that after making these crackers, you should wash those dear little hands prior to fondling any genitals, and while I’m dishing out orders: choose a fucking sensible dip that won’t make a mockery of these healthy crackers.

Ingredients: makes a shitload of crackers

– 1 cup flaxseed meal

– 1/2 cup water

– 2 teaspoons of oil (I use macadamia or olive)

– 1 tablespoon nutritional yeast (also called ‘savoury yeast flakes’… how enticing!)

– a sprinkle of salt

– 1 tablespoon of sesame seeds to give them a jazzy and classy appearance (class is no doubt a high priority of yours if you are here at Shannon’s Kitchen)

– optional additions to add flavour: you could try garlic powder; or rosemary; or chilli; or lemon rind; or balsamic vinegar and rock salt; or for actual cheese flavour omit the oil and yeast and add in 1/3 cup grated parmesan; or whatever the fuck you like

Let’s get to the crunch:

– get the oven on 200C

– mix your bits in a bowl until it’s a consistent goo

– I’m not going to lie to you, this dough is a bit of a cunt to roll out. It sticks like shit to a blanket, so I recommend rolling it out between two layers of baking paper so you don’t end up suiciding mid-prep

– roll it thinner than Christian Bale circa ‘The Machinist’ (just a few millimeters thick – for those of you who aren’t working in the metric system, catch the fuck up)

– now, you want to cut that rolled out shit into some crackers, then lay them on a baking-paper-covered tray and bake those bad boys for about 8-10 minutes. They should look lightly golden brown and be super stiff to the touch. Hell yeah, I said super stiff

– when they’re out, give them a short spell on a rack to cool their jets, then dip the little dudes in a wad of your favourite dip, and crunch those healthy fuckers to your heart’s content


Seedily yours,

Shannon x


I love fish – those generous, slippery little punks offer us more than just jokes about rotten vaginas. They offer us a few nutrients that are as evasive and desired as a Hemsworth peen-glimpse: like Vitamin D, omega-3 fats and vitamin B12. And just like our Hemsworth friends, you know that salmon is packing some fucking awesome fats. I’m sure I don’t need to sell any health factoids about brocco-friggin-lini to you. I mean, it’s bloody green, so it has to be good. Those little dudes are packed with phytonutrients that help you kick oxidised cells right in their pendulous ballbags. I’m not one to ignore flavour, so broccolini gets the sassy touch up it sorely needs with wasabi. Skin on or off the salmon, you ask? Well, that’s a matter for personal opinion, like the age-old dilemma of ‘bugger it you’ve gone this far, just go for it’ versus ‘hell no, back out of it and get yourself to the nearest sink’ when encountering the aforementioned rotten vagina. Now, let’s cook.

Ingredients: for 2

The glaze: herein known as ‘the glaze’

– 1 teaspoon dijon mustard

– 2 tablespoons honey

– 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

– a wee knob of butter, melted (haha – wee knob)

– a tiny little handful of roasted macadmias, finely chopped

Dressing for the broccolini: herein known as ‘the dressing’

– 1/2 teaspoon wasabi paste (if you like more zing, then add more)

– 1/2 teaspoon maple syrup

– 1 teaspoon sesame oil

– 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar

– 1 teaspoon tamari

The rest:

– 2 fillets of salmon

– fat/oil of your choice for stirfying the broccolini (I chose butter)

– 1 apple, cut it like this:


I’m just fucking with you. Cut him so he makes four nice little flat flat pieces (so you’ll have to either eat or toss the rounded ends), which you arrange lengthwise to make two little beds for the salmon, kind of like this:


Get it on:

– oven, get on the job mate, and get cracking at 200, this is serious shit

– to make ‘the glaze’, start a party between the dijon mustard, honey and balsamic vinegar, and mix it up good

– to make ‘the dressing’, just stir all that shit together (the wasabi paste, maple syrup, sesame oil, balsamic vinegar and tamari)

– lay your apples out on a baking-paper covered tray, so that they make a suitable receptacle for the salmon. Then glaze those little fuckers with ‘the glaze’. Pop them in the oven for about 5 minutes, so they can get warmed up before the salmon comes in all macho and ready to go

– alright, get the apples out again, and re-coat them with ‘the glaze’. Now tell the salmon to go all missionary on that apple, get him right up on top. Brush those cheeky little fillets with the melted butter and then coat well with ‘the glaze’

– now sprinkle your crushed macadamias on top of the salmon, to give it the sort of crust you would see in excessively worn underpants

– cook at 200 for 18 minutes (give or take – if you like it a bit more/less pink then you take charge and get your pink levels right)

– when there is only a matter of minutes to go, heat up a frypan/wok on high heat

– stirfry your dear little broccolinis for a few minutes

– when it is time, get your bedded salmon out of the oven, but let him have a little rest there for a few minutes before banging him and his apple-bum on a plate. Anything that remains of ‘the glaze’, dribble onto the salmon

– now get your broccolini on the plate, and drizzle on ‘the dressing’. Make sure to get a few askew spots on the plate, so it looks MasterChef’ish

– you are done. Fucking easy!


It’s no Hemsworth peen, but it’s pretty fucking satisfying,

Shannon x


Coconut oil. So many people are balls deep in this shit, banging it in smoothies and what-not, and touting it as a ‘superfood’. Should they be?

Let’s get one of the most important points out of the way: it tastes fucking delicious. Obscenely delicious. Like, crazy, fucking delicious. That’s pretty much why I use it. End point.

But coconut oil isn’t anything that special, it’s just a fat, and mostly saturated fat, which has about as good a rap as Biebs (although modern research is suggesting saturated fat is not a fucking villain after all, so you can cool your jets over that. Meanwhile, Biebs continues to prove he’s a complete toss-bag). Studies are showing that although it contains mostly saturated fats, coconut oil has a positive effect on blood cholesterol by increasing HDL levels. HDLs remove excess cholesterol from the tissues and carry it to that legendary liver, who then converts the cholesterol into bile salts (which enter your digestive tract, help break down fats, and then get shat out). That’s why they’re winners. LDLs do the opposite thing – they transport cholesterol to tissues where they can be used to synthesise cell membranes and steroids and what-not. That’s all great, but when levels of LDLs are excessive, the LDLs start bogging the cholesterol any old fucking place – like your precious arteries. This makes the arteries narrow and gooey, increasing your risk of heart disease (or your heart completely shitting itself and you being very sick or very dead). Not good. That’s why LDLs are generally considered cunts.

So besides being ok for the heart, coconut oil contains mostly medium chain fatty acids which are easy for the body to utilise as energy. Some of those are called lauric acid, and these are the chums which have some anti-viral, anti-bacterial and anti-fungal effects. Excellent. But eating arseloads of lauric acid in coconut form is not going to fucking cure AIDS or TB or chronic, oozing vaginal thrush on their own, so calm the fuck down.

Also, coconut oil is simply shithouse when it comes to essential fatty acids. It contains only small amounts of linoleic acid (omega-6 fatty acids) and zero linolenic acid (omega-3 fatty acids). So that is the opposite of excellent. But if it is part of a varied diet containing other fats that contain omega-3 fatty acids, then it’s no biggie.

I sound like I’m being a bit of a jerk to coconut oil. Sorry coconut oil, you’re not a loser, but you’re not a superfood so take off that ridiculous gold star badge, you are embarrassing yourself. Be consoled though, dear coco, that there are no oils that are perfect. Olive has little omega-3 and is unstable (not like Lindsay Lohan unstable, I mean it chemically. Oh wait.. that still kind of works for poor old Linds). Palm oil is out, as its trade kills fucking orangutans like some sort of unstoppable, cuntful rebel force, and man those little orange dudes are cute, so we simply cannot have that. It’s also associated with heart disease – fuck that. Canola oil is no saint either, despite the promises on its packaging – it’s extraction uses heat resulting in a processed, partially oxidised (ie. rancid) oil which increases inflammation. Damn you greasy kings of the tastebuds, damn you all.

So, in summary, coconut is not a superfood, but it’s not a syphilitic cock either. It’s a welcome PART of your diet. Having a salad? Don’t be silly, don’t use coconut oil like a fuck-knuckle. Use a liquid oil like macadamia or olive. But if you’re making Shannon’s Chocolate Salty Balls, well then, for fuck’s sake, get the coconut oil out. Coconut oil has some excellent properties, but let’s not be silly sausages – we must also give a respective nod to avocado, oily fish, nuts, and flaxseeds.

The more I research nutrition, the more I realise, it comes down to simple bloody variety.

Greasily yours,

Shannon x

P.S. It’s also grouse for rubbing on titties.

REFERENCES: For any rad nerds out there.

Chowdhury, R., Warnakula, S., Kunutsor, S., Crowe, F., Ward, H., Johnson, L., Franco, O., Butterworth, A., Forouhi, N., Thompson, S., Khaw, K., Mozaffarian, D., Danesh, J. & Di Angelantonio, E. (2014). ‘Association of dietary, circulating, and supplement fatty acids with coronary risk: a systematic review and meta-analysis’, Annals of Internal Medicine, Vol 160 Iss 9, p.658. Available at

Intahphuak, S., Khonsung, P. & Panthong, A. (2010) ‘Anti-inflammatory, analgesic, and antipyretic activities of virgin coconut oil’, Pharmaceutical Biology, Vol 48 Iss 2, pp.151-157. Available at

Marina, A., Che Man, Y. & Amin, I. (2009) ‘Virgin coconut oil: emerging functional food oil’, Trends in Food Science & Technology. Vol 20 Iss 10, pp.481-487. Available at

Marina, A., Che Man, Y., Nazimah, S. & Amin, I. (2009) ‘Antioxidant capacity and phenolic acids of virgin coconut oil’, International Journal of Food Sciences and Nutrition. Vol 60 Iss 2 pp.114-123. Available at

Nevin, K. & Rajamohan, T. (2006) ‘Virgin coconut oil supplemented diet increases the antioxidant status in rats’, Food Chemistry, Vol 99 Iss 2, pp.260-266. Available at

Ng, C., Leong, X., Masbah, N., Adam, S., Kamisah, Y. & Jaarin, K. (2014) ‘Heated vegetable oils and cardiovascular disease risk factors’, Vascular Pharmacology. Iss 61 Vol 1, pp.1-9. Available at

Nurul-Iman, B., Kamisah, Y., Jaarin, K. & Qodriyah, H. (2013) ‘Virgin coconut oil prevents bloody pressure elevation and improves endothelial functions in rats fed with repeatedly heated palm oil’, Evidence-Based Complementary and Alternative Medicine. Vol 2013. Available at


Christmas means eating. Eating turkey. Eating fucking grouse roast potatoes. Eating pudding. Eating shortbread. Take a look at Santa, the fat cunt, he is the Christmas poster boy, and you know that awesome fucker is getting his trotters into some tasty gear. But Santa needs to pump the brakes on his ol’ sleigh, because, if you look closely, that rosey hue to his cheeks and nose is, in fact, a ghastly combination of rosacea and broken capillaries, from years of bad culinary behaviour. At least we don’t have to worry about letting our children sit on his lap, because his dick is well smuggled under ample layers of adipose tissue. But child welfare aside, it’s time to pull your boots up, Santa, if you were on the lists rather than making the lists, you might just find yourself in the naughty lineup given these obvious indiscretions. Let’s start Santa on the path to health with some healthified shortbread. But beware, if the ol’ rooster trims down too much, next year you might want to dress your children in some firm fitting heavy denim jeans.

Now, I have to make something clear, this recipe uses butter. Lots of it. Therefore, if consumed in large amounts, it will no longer be healthy. So have some fucking sense. 

Ingredients: makes heaps of grouse shortbreads

– 2 cups almond meal

– 2/3 cup rice flour

– 125 g softened butter cut into cute little chunks

– 1/4 cup coconut oil

– 1/3 cup coconut sugar (they have this at the supermarket so don’t roll your eyes ya dickheads)

– 2 tbs honey or maple syrup

– it needs salt. If you’re a salt lover, put in 1/4 teaspoon. If you’re a salt-avoider, use 1/8 teaspoon

– 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

the sprinkle: 1 teaspoon coconut sugar and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon and a pinch of salt

– if you want to Christmas that shit up, feel free to throw in some chopped goji berries for a red tinge. I personally consider fruit of any kind an affliction on my shortbread, but whatever

Get Shorty:

– set the oven to 150

– chuck all the ingredients (except the sprinkle) into a food processor. Whizz it good

– flour a board with an absolute fuckload of rice flour. Then plonk your dough on top and roll him out to say, 0.5cm thick. Then use Christmassy cookie cutters or whatever the hell you like to produce something fucking presentable

– next, bang those little fellas on a baking tray that is lined with baking paper

– next, sprinkle on “the sprinkle”

– get them in that oven for 15 minutes, then pop them straight onto a cake rack to cool. Now, do not eat these tasty little fuckers straight out of the oven. They will be flaccid and horrendous. They need to cool down to become firm and ferocious


Merry Fucking Christmas,

Shannon x

Has everyone else noticed the trash talking of Victoria’s Secret models after their big 2014 show?

“they are too skinny”;

“they don’t eat for days”;

“they set an unachievable standard”;

“blah blah”.

What a load of shit.

It is their job to be friggin’ smokin’. Let’s pretend we are all cars. They are Lamborghinis, they are rare and are an amazing visual spectacle. The rest of us are like Toyota Camrys. We are fuel efficient and comfortable to ride. We don’t try to panel-beat and shame our Camrys into being Lamborghinis, or pick on Lamborghinis for being too sleek. We let cars be cars.


Haters: pump the brakes,

Shannon x