When I was twelve, my parents separated. The day before my mum moved out she made a huge dish of macaroni cheese and put the leftovers in the fridge. Dinner time the next day, my brother and sister had both gone out, so there was just me and my dad sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves. Neither of us knew how to cook back then, so all there was to eat was that leftover macaroni. My dad was too upset to eat, so I microwaved a bowl and ate it by myself while my dad cried in the living room.
Something that could have been wonderful, but for that momentary lapse of attention:
A gallon of rocky road ice cream.
Eaten directly out of the bucket with a small spoon.
After you've gotten home from being fired.
And found a note from your wife saying she's left you for the ice cream man.
At least the ice cream man left you some ice cream.
He didn't. You bought it on your way home to share with your wife - it's her favorite.
You know this because the ice cream man recommended it to you.
‘Toad coin?’ wondered the traveler as he examined the pebble. It did not look all that different from any other pebble, and certainly nothing like a coin. ‘What manner of coin has no head or tail, and bears no seal or flag? Who backs this toad coin, the toad bank? The toad treasury!?’ The traveler laughed, but the toads croaked sternly back at him.
Spending $10-15 a day on perishable organic dog food is not a sign of a decadent culture in terminal decline, it's actually real good and worth it.
No lifeguard on duty. Maze run at your own risk.
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