Some of you may remember this about the ultimate in easy to
I sat across from my boss every day for about eight months and at about 2:30 it would start. The foraging. I would begin to prowl around the kitchen and work areas, looking for uneaten carbohydrates, ice cream bars, or an occasional cup of moose stew, which was often, damned hard to find, in that office in San Francisco. Frankly, I was hungry, and it was obvious.
One day, after a late lunch, my boss looks up at about 3:15 and says, "How's the tapeworm doing?" There was an eff-load of laughter right after that. I said, "Wha?" "Your tapeworm. Howse he doing?" More laughter. Hmmmm.
So the other night I was eating ScreamingEffingHot™ with chunksOfHabanero™ Thai food with my friend, and I belched rather profoundly. He said, "I think the tapeworm is angry." More laughter.
The Mushroom Girl and I are going to Berkeley tomorrow shopping for a used bike. so maybe after that I can tell the story about the elder brother and the Atkins diet, and about the guy who got fired for hoarding hot chocolate in his locker at work, and how if you wait for the potato chips to be put out at work you'll starve to death, because -- after all -- those are *bad* for you, ... mmm ... they're carbs, so we don't want you to have them all the time.
Pass the pasta please.