Why You're Here:

You've said to yourself, "beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine."

You've often thought about what it would have been like to drop acid with Groucho Marx.

You know that until you measure it, an electron is everywhere, and your mind reels at the implications.

You'd like to get drunk on the wine from my sweet, sweet mind grapes.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Breakfast For Dinner

I love it. Always have, always will (r.i.p., Florent). Might even have it for a last meal if I'm ever staring down Ol' Sparky. Not necessarily the Grand Slam pictured there, but you get the idea.

Anyway, I just made eggs, toast and veggie breakfast sausages. Jenn's a vegetarian, so that pretty much makes me a vegetarian, (at home, anyway) but I will admit when there is a standout item. So standout in fact, it prompted me to throw words at the computer to tell you about them faux sausages--damn if they aren't better than the real thing (not counting, of course, the sausage in a sausage mcmuffin with egg. I mean, c'mon).

Also, I had to post to tell the world that Breakfast For Dinner would be a great name for a wimpy indie band from Portland.

One day, Breakfast For Dinner might even open for Melty Re-Freeze & The Bright White Lights. You never know...

1 comment:

  1. Great Pulp Fiction quote Butch...
    -Sundance

    ReplyDelete