Today I would like to quickly discuss english muffins. First of all, nobody makes an english muffin as good as Thomas’s. I will not argue this because it’s 100% correct and you know it. However, Thomas’s really ought to reconsider the whole “fork split” thing and let us do the slicing. In case you’re not sure, Thomas’s does this thing where they sort of cut the muffin for you, but it’s up to you to slide a small knife in there to finish the job – there’s really very little work involved for us. The problem is that the way they cut them is just wrong. You always end up with one very large part and another the size of a quarter.
This lends itself to clear problems when toasting the muffin – because the small one is as crisp as a newly burned building in Lawrence, MA (Massachusetts inside joke) and the big one is still kinda “raw” – and nobody eats Thomas’s english muffins before toasting it. Anyway, let us do the extra work. I’m pretty darn sure I can cut the muffin adequately, or at least more adequate than the Thomas’s machines are doing it.
In the news, you can expect to see a lot of mail with my picture on it, after the U.S. Postal service implements this. Strange but true.
Ever since I was in high school, I have recurring dreams about hockey and its always very similar – I arrive at a hockey game just in time, but for some odd reason, I have a very difficult time getting all my equipment on. And I start to panic, which makes me more rattled and I have an even more difficult time. Every minute or so I rush out to look to see how late I am or what period the game is in, yet I can’t seem to finish putting my equipment on. By the time I finish, there’s like 1 minute left in the game. Who can translate (or guess) the true meaning of this?
Song now playing: Mark Lanegan – “Borracho”