Tuesday, December 7, 2010

toast


From the bread down there ↓ in the previous post. 

I do have a very good toaster but it never gets used. The whole idea seems kind of stupid. You make the toast then you spread butter on it, which is often cold so it rips up the bread, and sometimes it doesn't melt so it just sits there like a yellow lump of fat. I'd rather just fry bread in butter or in olive oil.  I cannot otherwise explain this odd preference. Maybe I was a cowboy in a previous life and prefer the simpler chuck wagon ways. Maybe I accidentally electrocuted myself by sticking a knife into toaster that was plugged in. Maybe my older brother tricked me one time into looking inside the toaster right before the bread was done so it popped out and hit me right in the face then laughed like a loon because I was so naïve, credulous, trusting, and gullible. Maybe one of my ancestors was killed by being run over by a toaster-hauling truck. Maybe the fear of the flying toasters screensaver haunts my nightmares and affects my subconscious. Maybe the memory of hasty careless breakfasts of Eggos® and Pop Tarts®, and not even the good kind with icing, or Pillsbury Toaster Strudels® put me off permanently. Maybe some special someone gave me a cast-off broken-ass toaster to help appoint my first apartment instead of a thoughtful meaningful gift. Cheap skinflint bastard. Whatever the reason might be, the toaster sits on a shelf in a cabinet. 

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