The first floor bathrooms dont have a counter. Sinks along one wall, a mirror along the other, which is weird because the stalls have shelves over the toilets so you dont get your bag stolen out from under the edge. I'm washing my hands with my hips pushed up against the edge of the sink and my books wedged between them. They're still getting wet. I'd set them on the floor but the floor is uber disgusting. Downstairs bathroom in the Market disgusting. I finish up my intricate wash-between-each-finger scrubbing motion and turn the handle off with my elbow. Now for how to get to the paper towells without getting water from my hands all over my books, or dropping the books on the floor and having to wash my hands again. Fuck it. I put the books in the sink and pump out a length of towell. When I toss it in the trash I notice that my hands are bleeding. Blood all over my knuckles. I can't remember cutting my hands. The cuts are tiny and flat, like the time I accidently grated too far on the cheese and grated a bit of my hand.
I fell asleep in class for a while but snapped awake when i realized that the people who write math books are no good with grammar, and when being mathy, one should be precise. That comma counts, buddy. I skipped all the way home with my bloody knuckles and wet books and I made a cake with the buttermilk I accidently purchased last week. There will be baked goods galore until it's all gone. I feel sorry for it.
Posted by Sonya at March 18, 2003 09:35 AMButtermillk biscuits are not, however.
Posted by: Mol at March 18, 2003 10:22 AMI've always found pancakes to be a somber food, regardless of my company. I don't know why. They just seem so sad in their floppy blandness. I can't put syrup on them either, it feels like dressing them up as a lie.
On the other hand, I might just be a giant freak.
Posted by: yukino at March 18, 2003 01:38 PMI'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you there, buddy. I once dined on a Week of Pancakes, and I covered Dutch babies, blintzes, tortillas, buckwheat, and something else. (can't remember. i'm sure it was fun.) Not a lot of floppy, not a lot of bland. It's all how you approach the pancake. Pancake is a state of mind.
Embrace the pancake! Love the pancake!
Posted by: Mol at March 18, 2003 03:42 PMI'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you there, buddy. I once dined on a Week of Pancakes, and I covered Dutch babies, blintzes, tortillas, buckwheat, and something else. (can't remember. i'm sure it was fun.) Not a lot of floppy, not a lot of bland. It's all how you approach the pancake. Pancake is a state of mind.
Embrace the pancake! Love the pancake!
Posted by: Mol at March 18, 2003 03:42 PMI'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you there, buddy. I once dined on a Week of Pancakes, and I covered Dutch babies, blintzes, tortillas, buckwheat, and something else. (can't remember. i'm sure it was fun.) Not a lot of floppy, not a lot of bland. It's all how you approach the pancake. Pancake is a state of mind.
Embrace the pancake! Love the pancake!
Posted by: Mol at March 18, 2003 03:42 PMA smoke and a pancake?
A bong and a blintz?
A pipe and a crepe?
Ok, Dutch pancakes are certainly reason to jump into a crowded street yelling "my pants are on fire!" I love Dutch pancakes. I once trekked deep into London during a four hour layover just to find my favorite Dutch pancake house to get my brunch on, just because I love them.
Scallion pancakes. Mmmm.
Floppy fluffy IHOP pancakes, depresso city, baby.
Posted by: yukino at March 18, 2003 05:40 PMSorry 'bout the multiple posts. Apparently I was all about the bong and the blintz.
But, hello, fluffy IHOP? IHOP is depresso city, man, pancakes or no. Ain't the pancakes' fault.
Posted by: Mol at March 19, 2003 09:13 AMI like pancakes. They are very filling.
Posted by: Bastardized Dracula at June 29, 2003 02:42 AMi searched for this line from a song, and found this
Posted by: Sarah at September 17, 2005 12:18 AMi searched for this line from a song, and found this, and i was entertained, thank you.
Posted by: Sarah at September 17, 2005 12:18 AM