Early Sunday morn'
Mixed Blessing. Peaceful reading,
Dining hall still closed.
Mixed Blessing. Peaceful reading,
Dining hall still closed.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Vegetarian Haiku #1
I haven't been blogging a whole lot lately, so in order to encourage myself to blog more, I am altering the format. I am going to try and post at least 1 haiku per day, about my life, or my thoughts, or maybe about something completely random. I may still post other things, but this will at least get me focused back on blogging. So without further pointless rambling, here is the first haiku
Vegetarian
Changing my palate, so that
French fries are gross now.
Changing my palate, so that
French fries are gross now.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Ablic Right
No this is not an obscure philosophical ideal. It is not the latest fantasy novel, and it not a foreign word. Perhaps it will make more sense in context:
Ablic right ame intion dowment the liber and eved int who had advocate begar owning convent off the.
Makes perfect sense now, doesn't it? No? Well, what if you heard it spoken aloud by a talented actor? i.e. myself.
Ablic right ame intion dowment the liber and eved int who had advocate begar owning convent off the.
Makes perfect sense now, doesn't it? No? Well, what if you heard it spoken aloud by a talented actor? i.e. myself.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
The Spoony Adventures of Faldwin the Bard
Single serving microwavable soups. Seemingly a convenient for college students to get food without having to make the arduous hike to the dining hall. However, the designers of this product overlooked one important element necessary to the consumption of soup: spoons.
If they truly understood the college student, the manufacturers would have included a small disposable spoon in the package of soup. But alas, it was not meant to be. When I first realized that my collection of single serving microwavable soups were useless without that critical utensil, I immediately began to scheme. My first plan was to use some other implement in lieu of a spoon. But pencils lacked the scooping capability, and the top of the package of soup, was too unwieldy to handle. I needed something that combined the holding properties of a bowl, with the ergonomics of a stick. After a few unsuccessful trials with bamboo and coconut shells, I realized that only the genuine article would do.
But where to acquire it? Most stores require that you purchase several spoons at once, often with matching forks, and knives. Disposable utensils were out of the question, being an environmentally conscious bard. And so I turned to my last resort: burglary.
The aforementioned dining hall overflowed spoons, forks, and cutlery of all kinds. I had often seen some of this precious stainless steel, being thrown away by accident. Being an environmentally conscious bard, I couldn't allow such waste. So at my next visit to the dining hall, I cleverly avoided all stews, soups, and ice creams. Nothing on my plate required a spoon. But when the time came to get my utensils I took one nonetheless. My steely prize "accidentally" fell into my knapsack, and I went on my merry way.
Now one might think that my troubles were over, now that my prize had been obtained. But the single serving microwavable soups are not equipped with heating devices. Not having a microwave, I took the elevator down from the sixth floor of my hall, to the first floor kitchen. I put the container in the microwave, and calibrated it properly. But I wasn't wearing any shoes, and the tile floor in the kitchen was cold, so I left the microwave to heat my meal in peace, and went up to get my shoes.
I head back down to the first floor, only to realize that I do not have that one important element necessary to the consumption of soup: a spoon. So back up the elevator I go, into my room, to search for my spoon. I soon realize it had been in my pocket all along. So, I go back down the elevator, remove my soup from the microwave, and eat it. It was delicious.
If they truly understood the college student, the manufacturers would have included a small disposable spoon in the package of soup. But alas, it was not meant to be. When I first realized that my collection of single serving microwavable soups were useless without that critical utensil, I immediately began to scheme. My first plan was to use some other implement in lieu of a spoon. But pencils lacked the scooping capability, and the top of the package of soup, was too unwieldy to handle. I needed something that combined the holding properties of a bowl, with the ergonomics of a stick. After a few unsuccessful trials with bamboo and coconut shells, I realized that only the genuine article would do.
But where to acquire it? Most stores require that you purchase several spoons at once, often with matching forks, and knives. Disposable utensils were out of the question, being an environmentally conscious bard. And so I turned to my last resort: burglary.
The aforementioned dining hall overflowed spoons, forks, and cutlery of all kinds. I had often seen some of this precious stainless steel, being thrown away by accident. Being an environmentally conscious bard, I couldn't allow such waste. So at my next visit to the dining hall, I cleverly avoided all stews, soups, and ice creams. Nothing on my plate required a spoon. But when the time came to get my utensils I took one nonetheless. My steely prize "accidentally" fell into my knapsack, and I went on my merry way.
Now one might think that my troubles were over, now that my prize had been obtained. But the single serving microwavable soups are not equipped with heating devices. Not having a microwave, I took the elevator down from the sixth floor of my hall, to the first floor kitchen. I put the container in the microwave, and calibrated it properly. But I wasn't wearing any shoes, and the tile floor in the kitchen was cold, so I left the microwave to heat my meal in peace, and went up to get my shoes.
I head back down to the first floor, only to realize that I do not have that one important element necessary to the consumption of soup: a spoon. So back up the elevator I go, into my room, to search for my spoon. I soon realize it had been in my pocket all along. So, I go back down the elevator, remove my soup from the microwave, and eat it. It was delicious.
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