Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Adventures in Food-Pushing

I'm presenting an article in 18th Century Goth tonight, so of course in my mind that translates to "bring in muffins."

Slight snag in this plan: discovering chunks of Digiorno's pizza in the drawer where we keep the mini-muffin pans and cookie sheets.  I am considering writing a passive-aggressive note, although that would not be as satisfying as making an aggressive-aggressive phone call about not 1)dribbling frozen pizza toppings everywhere and 2)leaving them to rot.

I should've taken a picture so I could take it out every time my elderly parents complain about me being a filth wizard (friend only to the pig and the rat).  Which would also be a much more satisfying form of passive-aggression than a strongly worded letter taped to the microwave.

Anyway, mini-muffins.  Made even sadder by the fact that my peers' response probably has fuck-all to do with my grade on this, so there's no point in bribing them.  And I just wanted to make muffins while we actually had milk that hasn't turned into yogurt yet.

No comments:

Post a Comment