I need to pause for a moment to tell you that I am literally salivating.
Anyway, every time we have waffles, I feel compelled to tell Slayer about the amazing soft serve waffleness. We have waffles a lot. I'm sure that by this point, the thought of amazing soft serve waffleness is enough to make the poor man want to jump out the window.
So I've decided that a little revisionist history is in order. My stories are old and tired, and I need the new hotness. So from now on, every time I tell these old standards, I'm going to replace things.
Think Slayer will notice?
Well, yeah, since he reads the Wonder That Is My Blog. Whoopsie.
But anyway, the next time I tell it, it'll be different. I'll tell about how there was a waffle press in our college cafeteria, and I used to make waffle fish, and cover them with about a half gallon of sparkles, and then put soft serve on top. It'll be kind of an homage to merpires.
Hmmm... I've got an old standard about this one double date that I went on where my friend's date vomited veal parmigiana all over her, and we made up a song about it. ('I feel like puking veal,' sung to the tune of 'I feel like making love.' My days as a song parody writer have been long and semi-distinguished.) I wonder what I could do with THAT story.
A lot of very inappropriate things come to mind...
OBLIGATORY CONTEST SHOUT-OUT: Did you know that I'm running yet another contest? You can win a signed Wolverine book and a Wonder That Is My Blog prize pack. I just received the Dismember Me Plush Zombies in the mail. Heh...