Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Wal-Mart Is Making Me Fat

I'm not what anyone would consider to be impulsive, but when I get an idea in my head that won't let go, I have to act on it. Take for example a discussion I had last week with my wife, Penny. She was making breakfast and I started to wax poetic about the morning meals that I would have as a kid in Scotland. At the top of my list was boiled egg and soldiers, with the military men in question being sliced pieces of toast that could be dipped into a runny boiled egg. We both wanted one right there and then, but seeing as how we didn't have egg cups, we settled for a more traditional breakfast.
Fast forward to earlier this morning with poor old me, head stuck in the fridge, trying to figure out what to eat. We always have a hen's assful of eggs, so I immediately thought of boiled egg and soldiers. It was either that or resort to eating an entire can of Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls with icing. I hop in the car and head off to Wal-Mart to pick up a couple of egg cups so that Penny can enjoy the experience when she gets back from work. Problem is I can't find any. There are kitchen utensils that I have never seen or hear of before, including a device that will prevent bacon fat from spraying your bollocks when you cook naked.....no egg cups though.
I make the mistake of asking the lady in the housewares section where I might find said egg cups and received a slack-jawed stare by way of response. Seems she, or anyone else in Wal-Mart for that matter has never heard of egg cups.
I admit defeat and head back to my car where my dog greets me with the same expression as the shop clerk. It's less than a 5 minute drive to my house, but by the time I get there I have convinced myself that the cinnamon rolls will become tainted if I don't eat the. I am well aware that they are in a vacuum sealed tin that would survive a nuclear attack, and that superior being from another galaxy would never be able to open that can, but I still have an inkling that the ebola virus will find its way in.
Thirty minutes later, my arteries clogged with icing, and I am filled with shame. 8 cinnamon rolls are gone, as well as a pot of coffee, and I am appalled. I feel like the dude from "Seven" and almost wish that Kevin Spacey would come and punish me for my sins. I soon realize that it's not my fault though, and that if Wal-Mart would just take the simple steps of selling egg cups, this kind of breakfast debauchery could be avoided.

2 comments:

CB said...

Aye the auld scottish 'sougies' you cany wack 'em...

Anonymous said...

I won the lottery. Pity you missed it. You could have had golden eggs for breakfast if you hadn't killed the hen.

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