I walk through the door, back from work.
I am hungry, i had the oppurtunity to go to taco bell, but the fact that i am broke strongly discouraged that.
I eat a stick of string cheese, but the hunger continues.
There is only one option to quench the hunger: The Hot Dog.
I get a hot dog out walk to the nearest microwave that doesnt have someone sleeping next to it.
At the furthest end of the hall i emerge with a fully "cooked" hot dog eager to add the condements of ketchup and mustard, dont forget the relish! gotta relish that stuff.
In my room i grab the hotdog buns, whats a hot dog without a bun? not a perfect hot dog thats what.
I set it down and tie the bag of buns back up.
What! whats this, a squished hot dog bun, with a funny black mark? NO! it cant be.. frantic i grab the back rip it open to reveal my worst nightmare.. MOLD!
I guess ill just through these away..
I start to crumple the hot dog buns up when out of no where a memory hits my brain with a small echoing noise.
(Tim: "You wanna step on this loaf of bread with me? I imagine it'd be quite fun."
Me: "DO I!"
So we did.)
squish+bread+feet+stump= FUN! YEAH!!!
I through the buns to the floor and begin to trample them gleefully.
better than any hot dog bun or hot dog, is the memory and once again the glee of soothing bread squishing between my toes.
Thanks Paul for a bread squishing fun time.