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Love it? Hate it? Indifferent?

I tend to be the that last category. I like breakfast, but I hardly ever eat it. I just don’t see the point. On days when I work, I get up too early (debatable, I know) to fix breakfast before I head to work, and on days that I’m off, I usually sleep in too late to justify eating breakfast.

Every once in a blue moon, though, when the stars align, the fates converge, and I forget to turn off my alarm clock, I decide to cook something for breakfast. This was one of those mornings. Actually, my dad woke me up a bit early today, but I still decided to cook some foodstuffs. Normally, when I consider cooking something for breakfast, that entails getting the toaster and popping in some Pop Tarts legacy post time. This morning, though, I wished for something a bit, more… dramatic.  After all, what’s a morning meal without toast, bacon, eggs, and random French music?

A Eulogy for the Nommed

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We are gathered here today–on this, the eve of that great occurrence–to commemorate that which has passed into the nether of the past. It is with great solemnity that we observe the passing of the times that we held together, yet we will endeavor to not forget that which has been, for the memories and stories that we tell will be all that remains of this glorious time.

Although this time was always inevitable, the probability makes the occurrence no easier for our emotions to conquer. It is understandable that many among us are saddened; indeed, to be sad is human. We mustn’t look with total disdain upon this moment, for in the words of Carl Jung, “The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.” The joys of our experiences are only heightened by the downtrodden times with which we compare them. Let us be then thankful for that which we have received, and look not upon the inevitable with total contempt.

Now, at the beckon of the duties that call us hither, let us hearken back to our respective responsibilities. Do not dwell on the sadness. Remember, dinner is served tonight at six. Lunch will always come again tomorrow. Go and dwell no longer on the meal that has ended.


Theologically and Epicureanically Speaking…

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Have you ever dreamt of a world devoid of waffles? Have you ever considered what horrors could manifest themselves as a result of such a tragic state of being? Have you ever sat and pondered the supreme lack of appeal that a breakfast would hold without those wonderful square bread-type items that so greatly compliment heaping spoonfuls of butter and syrup? Have you ever thought of the sadness that the realm of pancakes would experience with the loss of such a symmetrically thrilling cousin?

No, neither have I. I think about much more important things. (Like monkeys.)

My apologies to any that I have offended with my brash outbreak of depressive speech. The other day, I was dwelling upon the theological implications of waffles. The results were rather bleak. Needless to say, the quadrilateral attributes of the waffle do not match up well with the overarching triune theme of that other religious belief system.

In fact, in all of my not-small sampling of theological study, I have never come across a correlatory discourse on waffles and religion.  

Waffles are so confusing; it’s quite easy to underestimate them. For me, breakfast begins by obtaining some yogurt, moving on to the fruit, sallying forth to acquire some cereal, then ambling over to fill up on a tasty beverage or two. Those devices of such simple, yet wonderfully successful, operation stand over to the side–the waffle makers. They sit idly by and taunt my taste buds. The mix and machines stare at me, ideologically wonderful but practically deadly. A waffle at such a time in the morning, with my already-full tray of food, could ruinously affect both my schedule and eating habits.

Not to mention my figure. The results of such gluttony could be disastrous.

Unlike a Pop Tart, which can be eaten with both a high level of enjoyment and a low effect on one’s appetite, a waffle can completely destroy an appetite. Waffles fill every corner of your stomach with their dense substance, expanding to overcome any voids that might have existed in the stomach prior to consumption.

Waffles: the expanding foam of the food world. 

However, when eaten with liberally applied large volumes of syrup and butter, waffles can make for a quite satisfying meal.  A glass of milk, a bottle of syrup, a plate of waffles, and an empty stomach are all essential elements to a unique and satisfying breakfast experience.

Those and meatloaf. Meatloaf always makes for a unique breakfast. Especially with root-beer. Root-beer and meatloaf for breakfast… (I think it’s time to stop writing now.)