Breakfast with a Caveman

  1. Search
  2. About
  3. Subscribe
  4. Archive
  5. Random

Breakfast with a Caveman

I am a writer in a quest to know real food and how to enjoy it.
Join me in this quest as we sift through our daily rations of the edible stuff and decide which are genuine honest to goodness food and which are knock-offs.

Feel free to post comments or E-mail Me!

Newer
Older
  • In a bad predicament

    How do I say no to somebody who sincerely offers something that I know is bad?

    No, this is not a solvent–sniffing kind of a dilemma or a kill–someone–for–me kind of a deal. This is, as you all know by now, about food.

    I am aware that, in all honesty, that somebody, a woman I’m going to call Lady in Red, does not know that the item she gives out can kill me or her or the entire population in the long run. She is a very kind and generous person–a saint trapped in this wicked earth– a well-respected citizen and a very talented and skillful human being. However, she is not health conscious.

    Every time I see her, she always hands me a bar of Baby Ruth. She is giddy and glad when she gives me those sweet nothings.

    Growing up, I loved Baby Ruth, and she knows it that’s why she gives me those to make me happy. But I am a grown human being now, yet somehow, she thinks I still party with that candy.

    The last time I remember eating Baby Ruth was when boys like me still had Alyssa Milano in the category of Babe To Be Imagined.

    I am in a conundrum. A problem that even high-minded physicists would find more difficulty in solving than the problem of Dark Energy.

    What am I going to do with the Baby Ruth bars that I have amassed in my fridge?

    I can’t throw them away. I can’t give them away to kids on Trick or Treat Night. I can’t share it with anyone and more so, obviously, I can’t eat them. Why? Because I know it is bad.

    If I do any of these options either guilt or diabetes will cause my demise.

    But if I don’t do anything, Baby Ruth will eat my fridge and I would have no more space to even cool a slice of lemon.

    What should I do? I don’t want to hurt Lady in Red’s feelings by asking her to stop. What’s the best way to handle this?

    As I write this blog, Sheryl Mae, with arms folded, and deep in thought, is looking inside the fridge like Edwin Hubble peeping into a Black Hole.

    Help!

    PS: I am investigating Organic TV dinners and will post something about it tomorrow.

    I mean, seriously, how could a heavily preserved and frozen packaged meal be called organic?

    Tagged: food health baby ruth dar energy edwin hubble black hole organic fitness diabetes stroke disease

    Posted on January 17, 2010 with 1 note ()

    1. jeepneytales likes this
    2. foodsearcher posted this
  • fajita
  • schwarze-katze
  • robirobster
  • moveyourbooty
  • feannekitty
  • staff
  • bonaelamour
  • annazoe
  • honeyonmylips
  • callmeconnie
  • angiedonuts
  • brokelab
  • hellotallsara
  • moveyourbootynation
  • pluralpunk
  • madapaka
  • noisenik
  • wellhello
  • vagene2
  • unstoppable8
  • josiahgarduque
  • jaymsterbean
  • starson45
  • chewchew
  • jimfridas
  • meret
  • louisaroxxx
  • anang-chuva
  • vegmoms
  • jeepneytales
  • twosquishygirls
  • runhayleyrun
  • flexitarianfoodie

Field Notes Theme. Designed by Manasto Jones. Powered by Tumblr.