An inneresting dinner for me--Finding an old can of vegetarian chile with refried beans given to me long ago by one of my grandmothers, which, if I'm deciphering the numbers correctly, went bad sometime in 1748, I dumped the contents into a small microwavable glass bowl. Cheerfully imagining the quaint, elegant and frilly costumes of the good people that had packaged the chile, I set to tearing strips off a stick of string cheese and layering them over the bowls contents. Then, placing the lid lightly on the bowl, I placed my little meal in the microwave and proceeded to listen disinterestedly both to its ingredients exploding and splurting out of the poor, inadequete little container, and the mysterious new anchor of Nightline who was neither Ted Koppel nor the usual Psuedo-Koppel blond guy.
After the microwave's little alarm beaped at me, signalling the completion of its mission, I began the uphill battle of removing the thing, causing many fragments of paper towel to add themselves to my little recipe.
Finally, all was in readiness, and I managed to deliver the entire contents of the bowl to my mouth via tortilla chips before Pollitically Incorrect started.
I have the best life in the world.