Monster month = monster appetite. I need to feed the long run beast. This happens every training cycle.
Today at 2 pm, at my desk, I made s’mores. My coworkers must secretly suspect I have a tape worm.
I made s’mores without marshmallows because I don’t eat vile food that doesn’t look, smell, or taste like food. Also I didn’t melt the chocolate. I worried a bunsen burner might cross the fire code line. Also I used cookies instead of graham crackers. No reason, except one of convenience, as in I conveniently had cookies at my desk.
So technically I ate
a bag of animal cookies covered in chocolate buds. Calling them s’mores sounds classier than calling it what it is. A pathetic binge. Yeah, it’s a sad scale when s’more is the sophisticated end point.
Title: Rolling Stones – Beast of Burden. 1978.