Lately, it’s been hard to come up with decent subject matter for the blog. I suppose that’s called writer’s block. When I get artist’s block the best way I know to get out of it is just to doodle. To keep drawing random things and eventually I’ll push through it. I suppose the same can go for writing. So I’ll just pick a subject and go with it. Let’s see…
Waffles.
I have nothing against waffles, though you may not know that by my diet as it has been years since I have ingested this tasty morning treat. I have no real explanation for the absence of waffles in my life, except that when it comes to grocery shopping, I’m extrodinariy lazy. Or perhaps it’s that I don’t want to spend more time than necessary in the grocery store. Whatever the reason, there definately needs to be more waffles in my life.
I am wondering, though, what makes a waffle a waffle. If not for it’s inherent grid patterned indentions, would it simply be a firm pancake? To get the answers to my questions, I think it’s only fitting that I go to the source of all things waffle. The Waffle House.
I tried calling the waffle house to get some answers, but the manager refused to talk to me, and Trudy, apparently in charge of the phone, was ill equipped to think outside her own paradigm. Clearly this would require leg-work. Off to the Waffle House!
After finding a vacant seat, still warm from the previous occupant, I ordered a cup of coffee and glanced over the menu. I was about to bring my waitress, Denise, on board my philosophical dilemma, when a large tattooed man who I can only describe as sporting a ZZ Top beard and peculiar leather/flannel vest, gets insanely jealous that someone is actually attempting an intelligent dialog with Denise. I don’t know terribly much, but I do know it’s best not to anger a man who carries his abnormally large knife in a leather case on his belt. So I backed down, opting to assign him the role of alpha male while trying not to make eye contact, and consequently forgot about the waffles and ordered two eggs, overeasy, with a side of wheat toast instead.
All the way home I imagined various senarios and assured myself that I could have taken him.
So I arrived back home, with my waffle questions still unanswered and “Sharp Dressed Man” stuck in my head. I think I’m content to let this particular issue rest for now. Waffles, you have my respect.
:cackle:
I believe that there’s a variation in the batter, too. Don’t hold me to that.
[And yes, I know that I'm taking a silly entry seriously. It's my idiom.]
Geof F. Morris
July 8th, 2006
C’mon, how hard is it to buy waffles. It doesn’t keep you at the grocery store any appreciable amount longer. You just walk by the frozen breakfast section and snag a package of Eggos.
As far as the biker dude…I think you could have taken him. If not, I bet you’re faster than he is. If you’re not willing to get down and dirty in search of your answers, you shouldn’t be doing this line of philosophizing. What, are you too pretty to take a few punches to the jaw in search of the meaning of waffles?
On an unrelated note, I had a dream last night that I drove down to visit you gravyguys (including Goose…). It was good because you were only a 3 hour drive away. It was bad because when I arrived, you had all just received a business call that you needed to be somewhere else immediately and it ruined our plans for fun and games.
Roger
July 9th, 2006
Do you like WAFFLES?
Yeah we like WAFFLES!
Do you like PANCAKES?
Yeah we like PANCAKES!
Do you like FRENCH TOAST?
Yeah we like FRENCH TOAST!
doot doot doot
Can’t wait to get enough . . . WAFFLES!
Kari
July 9th, 2006
Roger, remember I said I’m “extremely” lazy.
Kari, What are you babbling about?
Geof, batter? What does baseball have to do with anything?
(Idiom indeed)
Brian
July 9th, 2006
[...] What can I tell you…? I must have somewhat of writer’s block, as Brian lamented the other day. He found a great way to work through it, apparently. Everything he does is art. [...]
» Brothers, Three. - The Monkey Exhibit
July 10th, 2006