And then for the big mystery. Why would anyone, ever buy pre-sliced bread?
Just. Plain. Wrong.
I don’t kkow where you buy your rye, but mine always has two heels. In fact, it’s amazing that it can’t run away from me upon sensing its impending doom. I don’t know where the Manson-Dixon line is, bu the best Jewish rye in the Chicago area is to be bought at Kaufman’s on Dempster St. in Skokie, just east of the Skokie Swift.
(And The Gaspode, is pre-slicing aceptable if it’s done on the bakery premises where the bread was created? I would never buy a pre-bagged supermarket abomination, if that helps.)
WHAT? How does one slice peanut butter?
I just don’t understand why anyone would have to slice bread…the only acceptable way to eat it is warm, middle first, with salt or warm and used to sop up sauce or meat juice. mmmm…bread.
Sad, but true. Peanut butter is now sold in slices like cheese.
Now what I’d really like to know is how they prevent it from sticking to the plastic wrap. 
This is my version of hell. Flavored coffee? Mannheim Steamroller? You deserve the thin sliced bread!
But I had to! In order to appease the faeries camped around my house. They told me if I ever listened to Rob Zombie or Alice Cooper again, they would see to it that the Libertarians would take over. :eek:
So, I called up my Raellin congressman, Ted Kennedy, for advice. He told me to do some things that would shock a snuff porn producer.
Well, that didn’t help much, and now the police keep questioning me about the disappearance of my elderly neighbor…
I seek solace in religion. The priest answers the door with a flushed face and unfastened pants held up by one hand. “Yes?” he asks. Memories of my childhood come racing back to me…“Uh, never mind…” and I run home to the solace of my dark, damp closet.
That was when the faeries got mean.
Entering my house, they proceeded to redecorate in a Santa Fe theme, all the while playing Dwight Yokum’s Favorite Spanish Easter Songs.
Enraged by the Bakersfield sound of DW, and none too happy that my precious Star Trek themed furniture is burning in a pile on my front lawn, I use my last line of defense. Brandishing the tire iron I keep handy next to the toilet, I become The Beserker, smashing faerie heads left and right.
“OG SMASH! OG SMITE!” I bellow with each crash of metal into bone.
But, outside, thousands more faeries appear.
Covered in blood, faerie guts, and pottery shards, I bow to the inevitable.
For I am but mortal man. And the faeries want flavored coffee.
I did find a nice bakery just down the way from here, tho.
I think this thread has singlehandedly made you my most favoritest SDMB poster ever, NoClueBoy.
More! 
Hanging my head in shame, I admit to buying supermarket rye, not being close to any good bakeries. Mayhaps that is my original sin, the root of all that has gone wrong in my life??
Who takes the other heel from supermarket rye?
A multinational cabal of Libertarians, of course. ;j
I’m surprised the cats you claim to dance with haven’t informed you of this, my ferrets were quite vocal on the subject.
They, the Libbies, not the cats, are using them, the heel slices, not the cats, to power a new form of cloning machine in order to populate the north eastern United States with Jan Michael Jarre lookalikes in order to take attention away from their prime operative, Michael Jackson.
Think about it, won’t you?
Heh. My son calls heels the “butt” of the bread. Butts ‘n’ peanut butter are the best. Dunked in ice cold milk. With a cat staring at you as you eat it.
Yep! 
Try making it yourself; a bread machine, in the right hands, can be your friend, if you don’t have the patience to do it by hand.
I hate to be the one to break this to you, NCB, but by eating that bread heel first, tasty though it may be, you’re preventing it from fulfilling its true purpose in life—keeping the subsequent slices from getting stale. It exists to keep air off the tender insides of its brother slices, and should be lifted like a hinge so that other the slices can be removed, then replaced.
It should only be consumed when all the middle slices are gone, but then you can have TWO heels at once.
Or if you’re me, just throw them away at that point, 'cause I don’t much like 'em. You want I should send you my heels?
(I won’t even go into what you’re doing to your soul by drinking flavored coffee.)