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Musings on the drive home
This morning, I said to myself, "Self, you need to get gas after work!"
It was on my post-Costco drive home when I had to acknowledge that the black beans I had for lunch did not qualify as fulfilling this mornings mental imperative. So, as my car appeared to be choking on its tank's last fume, I rolled into the Kwik Serv on Fruitridge road.
Total gas procured: 9.912 gallons. This means I had just about 2 tablespoons of gas left in my car.
Sweet. Presuming an average of 28 miles per gallon, I could have lasted another two tenths of a mile before going belly up on the pulchritudinous conveyance known as 99 South.
At the supermarket known as Ralphs, I noticed that they sell frozen Texas Toast. Frozen. Toast.
Yes, as if making toast was such an ordeal that you would be willing to risk freezer burn for some authentic Tejas toast! What, is it borne on the wings of angels from the great state of the Lone Star?
Christ. What overkill.
It was on my post-Costco drive home when I had to acknowledge that the black beans I had for lunch did not qualify as fulfilling this mornings mental imperative. So, as my car appeared to be choking on its tank's last fume, I rolled into the Kwik Serv on Fruitridge road.
Total gas procured: 9.912 gallons. This means I had just about 2 tablespoons of gas left in my car.
Sweet. Presuming an average of 28 miles per gallon, I could have lasted another two tenths of a mile before going belly up on the pulchritudinous conveyance known as 99 South.
At the supermarket known as Ralphs, I noticed that they sell frozen Texas Toast. Frozen. Toast.
Yes, as if making toast was such an ordeal that you would be willing to risk freezer burn for some authentic Tejas toast! What, is it borne on the wings of angels from the great state of the Lone Star?
Christ. What overkill.
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What, so you put it in ... the toaster ... this is different from regular toast ... *headexplody*
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