Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Half Baked

I talk to the television.  Not like my Dad does, he gets riled up at the news and commercials.  Okay, I would scream profanities at the Arby's ads if I allowed them to play, but DVRs are a wonderful thing.  No, my talking to the television is more along the lines with plot and character development.

I hold my hands up in mock despair when a character does something that has either nothing to do with their beliefs and original story line or there is an action that completely contradicts their core. I end up saying "well that was stupid" a lot.  Or, "why was that even necessary?" 

This talking to myself (or muttering) continued into daily actual for realsies out-of-doors life while I was shopping last week.  I was trying to pick out the best hot dog buns.  I don't buy hot dog buns on the regular.  I splurged and bought some fancy vegan kielbasa (bring it on Jeff) so I needed some buns.  As I stood there, weighing the cons of this brand and reading the ingredients of this other, I heard myself, chittering away.  Then I noticed the bread-man stocking shelves.

Me - "So, lucky you.  You got to hear my one way conversation with my crazy self."

Bread-Man - "You should hear me.  We drive ourselves crazy in order to stop ourselves from going crazy."

*Side note.  With the heat being so overbearing I have been opining about changing the expression of "The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread" to "The Best Thing Since Air-Conditioning" because I mean in the history of things I would think we as a human race could survive with having to slice our own bread.  I'm team Air-Conditioner.  Except for my Bread-Man.  He's the best thing to happen to sliced bread and rationalizations.

The Bun

The Bun
If you don't like rabbits, you can suck it, shove it and then go soak your head.