You’re back there with all the bagels, the various flavored cream cheeses, the peanut butter and the jams, putting together my bagel.
After slicing my bagel in half and applying a generous schmear of cream cheese, you sliced my bagel in half to make it easier to eat.
Only, you coporophagic nincompoop, you only sliced it halfway in half. I’d try to explain the fractional implications to you, but the thought of seeing your head implode is too much for me to bear. So I’ll stick to practical matters.
Listen you apron-wearing dufus, slice it all the way or not at all. I try to pick up half a bagel and drag the other half with it because you can’t finish the simple task you started. Your attempt to make my life easier has backfired, only on me rather than you.
Clearly you’re in way over your head with baked goods and multiple cuts. Please cease and desist.
Okay, it’s a lame post, and I’m really not all that worked up about it. I’m hoping the judges are working on a curve tonight.
I hate that. A deli I go to regularly does that all the time, and it drives me nuts. Now, I just assume that all sandwichs I eat have been improperly cut, and give it a good yank to seperate the halves before I try to eat it.
I give this rant an 8.3. The subject is of vital importance, but it lacks the creative use of compound curse words.
Precisely my point. Since Mr/Mrs Palindromic Integer is an East Coaster, we could allow the poor choice of a hard bagel but one point would have to be deducted from the overall rant score for each modifying adjective in the cream cheese description.
Overall, I give it an 7.1 due to the lack of any spork references.
Cutting bagels into quarters? What kind of nonsense is this?
My husband still rants about the time he pulled up to the Tim Horton’s window before dawn one morning, as he often did while we still lived in WNY, and asked for hot tea. He sat in astonished silence while he watched the teenaged male doofbrain put a tea bag into a styrofoam cup and proceed to pour “hot” water from the tap into the cup.
Poor Mr. Spooky, who was overworked and sleep-deprived at the time, zoomed out of the Tim Horton’s parking lot, hurling his tepid cup of tea into the bushes, and hurling unrepeatable abuses at the staff at the same time.
Oh, the reason I brought up this episode at Tim Horton’s was because poor Mr. Spooky always bought his morning bagel 'n cream cheese there. Sorry for the hijack.
Ten years or so ago, there was a trendy bagel shop in my neighborhood with every sort of fruity-candied-extra-shrapnelized bagel variety you can imagine.
Actually, one more than you can imagine. They had a bagel with — wait for it — bacon bits.