So today has been rocking in several respects. I have gotten all of my paper grading done, though I should have done slightly more work. Regardless, today is my last official day of serious post-surgical recovery, so I don't feel too bad about that. I will have to do more tomorrow and Friday to make up for it, but I can handle that shit. Why, you ask. Because I fucking roxors and shit, that is why.
In a second respect, I had some food that was not drinkable for the first time today. I was like, I think I would like pancakes, because I know I an eat them. So Katie was like, cool go make pancakes. I was like, alright, but just so you know, I am going to use Bisquick pancake mix, I am not going to actually make pancakes according to the recipe. I recognize, of course, that Betty Crocker pancakes fundamentally taste better, but they take longer to make and are much more work. I was all about the situation whereby I pour flour shit in a bowl and add appropriate water until the mixture is pancakey. I didnt want to measure and wisk and shit. Anyway, Katie, being the pancake snob that she is, refuses to allow me to make pancakes in this fashion. Alright, says I, I says, I says, you are free to make pancakes in the Betty Crocker fashion.
I think this is a perfectly fair arrangement. I want some food, I am going to make it, if she wants me to have different food instead, she should feel free to make it. I mean, its not like I was saying, "I am going to wash your clothes with ketchup instead of laundry detergent." I was just making myself some breakfast. I even understand that Katie is disgusted by even the thought of certain foods. Take for example the cottage cheese which I enjoyed while my jaw left me undable to eat more solid food. Katie happens to think that cottage cheese is incredibly disgusting, so much so that she was a little pissed off that I even ate it. Regardless, Katie is not disgusted by pancakes that are not up to her standards. I was not gonna force feed her sub-par pancakes or anything. If the smell or something was disgusting, if the cooking of hot sweet buttermilk batter nauseated her or whatever, I would have no problem. But if I am like, "Hey I want to drop this table on my foot." I don't really understand why someone should have veto power.
I don't mean this to say that Katie is being bossy or anything, her incredibly unique combo of food snobbery and eating Beefaroni is one of the reasons I love her. Regardless, because of this combination of factors we decided to go get some brunch, actually just breakfast, but it was like noon. So we rolled to Denny's, since it was on the way to run the rest of our errands anyway. We broke fast in a solid way, but that really isn't too relevant. It took me alot longer to eat my food and it was really difficult with a half shut jaw, but I rocked out. The sweet part was when we were just about to pay and leave when I found a dime in my pocket. They had one of those little water filled jar things by the register where you can drop change in and you get a little prize if you catch it on a platform. So I did it, I fucking nailed the dime style. That meant that Katie and I will receive a free piece of pie on our next trip to Denny's, oh yeah.
Thats why the call me "10 Cent Slice." Its a great fucking deal, even if its a slice that cost the company 3 cents to produce aforementioned slice. Anyway, this is 10 Cent Slice, signing off.
Peace,
MB-K
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