As I sit here at lunch, dutifully consuming my homemade channa masala, brown rice and spinach salad … and lamb curry … I stumble across a description of a bacon chocolate bar.
Seriously? You can do that?
Hm.
I think I want one. Just one. Or, just a taste. A teeny tiny little taste … just to see …
I wish to state, categorically and emphatically, that Katja’s Auntie is not now, nor has she ever been, responsible for sending my diet off the rails. Her endless supply of dark, Lindt, 70% cocoa chocolate, the kind that melts sweetly and soothingly on the tongue while one is struggling through mind-numbing grading or class prep, delivered to my desk, for free, has NOTHING whatsoever to do with my decision to consume said morsels.
I’m a grown-up. I make my own decisions.
(… Geben Sie mir Schokolade und niemand sind verletzt …)
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Andy Borowitz’s discussion of Obama’s annoying habit of speaking in complete sentences made me laugh out loud. I APPLAUD HEARTILY the return of the English language to the colonies.
OK … back to work … If I had my camera here, I’d take a picture of the chocolate … alas … no camera …