Beef, It's What's for Breakfast

I came home tonight to find all my stuff where I'd left it. The Cantonese speaking, PG&E impersonating, landlord's mother's name knowing con artists have been thwarted yet again.

In an unrelated development, I've decided that most quick breakfast food is overrated and I'm not going to buy it anymore. I can't find any cereal that piques my interest. I've never told anybody to leggo of my Eggo. They're welcome to it. Bagels still hold some gastrointestinal motivation, but my toaster oven is mostly on the fritz. So instead I've decided to each dinner for breakfast. Last night I made some chicken and put in the fridge. When I got up this morning I nuked it next to a bowl of peas - Breakfast of champions. Then on my way to my first delivery I stopped for a mint cookie ice cream sandwich - Breakfast of champions part II. I really need to quit with this ice cream sandwich/cookie business.

And lastly, the San Francisco Public Library refuses to deliver the book I requested to my sullen local branch. I requested both it and it's sequel and only the sequel has arrived, which, as you can imagine, does nothing to help me pass the time during lunch. So while I wait for my book I chose to reread something I own. I'm currently reading The Watermelon King, by Daniel Wallace. I've read all the Daniel Wallace books, and they are all excellent. But it's stuff like this, stuff that makes me laugh out loud (which I rarely do), which makes me hope he'll write something else soon.

"And Zeus, well, you know how it happens. He seduced her behind the barn. The pregnancy was mystically accelerated, and you plopped out of her a few weeks later. In the old days that would have made you a demigod, but unfortunately all the traces of any kind of supernatural power were eradicated in the public school system."

So good.