Amish Friendship Bread

Does anyone remember amish friendship bread? Circa 1993?
I've been thinking about it recently and how maybe I'd like to make it. Even though making the starter involves using yeast, and last time I tried to make something using yeast I just made hardtack. If only I were on a merchant ship! Or a slave ship. Anything trans-atantic really. Pair that with some salted pork....you've got some fab scurvy dining.
Well, here is an article from the "Albany News Miner", about why I should not make amish friendship bread. now or ever.
My favorite parts:
The loaf of Amish friendship bread your co-worker brought to work tasted most excellent, so you complimented the chef.

Big mistake.

The following morning you arrived at work to discover a large Ziploc bag of bile-colored goo slouching on your desk. Along with it, a sheet of paper filled, top to bottom, with detailed instructions on how to care for and cultivate the goo, destined to sit and sour on your counter for 10 days as you take turns mushing it, ignoring it, squeezing out built-up-fumes and adding various ingredients — milk, sugar, flour — before the final baking.

I had forgotten about "burping the bag" which is sick. I really can't handle disgusting bodily functions being attributed to inanimate objects. Sick.
Also they don't put that you add in pudding! That's the best part.

“This is the chain letter of food,” said Linda Picarazzi, a baker who lives in South Bethlehem, N.Y. “This stuff requires daily care. So don’t even think about going away for the weekend.”

Since instructions warn bakers to keep a bag of starter for themselves (since it allegedly can’t be made from scratch), and that freezing’s a no-no, law-abiding friendship bread bakers are therefore condemned to an seemingly endless cycle.

I love that you are forced to eat AFB in this Sisyphean baking hell of delicious pudding cinnamon sugar fermented ziploc bag bread. You can't ever stop! It's kind of how I feel about my podcast and blog subscriptions, but with food.

Bottom line, I will not be attempting to start an AFB ring, but I secretly want someone to offer me the baggie. That is also how I feel about cocaine.

OK, so I don't want my blog to just become about my roommates, which is why there haven't been many posts. But there are many mysteries to be solved in this apartment such as: why would someone be willing to live with a cabinet full of mouse poop and dishes in the sink for days BUT use a coaster EVERY TIME he puts down a glass?!
Will awkward roommate ever be not-awkward? Given that she appears to fall on the autism spectrum, I'm guessing no.
Will stoner roommate ever offer up some of her weed? Isn't that the stoner code? Is she a lesbian? If not, why do I see the biggest, butchest dyke (who does not live here) every morning on her way to the shower?
If I paint the living room, will anyone notice? Or care? What about if I take in foster kittens? Haitian refugees?


P.S. Thanks to everyone who supported my goal of making my episode of Judge Karen the highest rated. Now someone get it on the internets so i can email it to my mom (who screwed up the dvr-ing of it).