Sunday, May 22, 2005

I made him a bagel, woe is me

I prepared Red a bagel, and now I shed a tear for the cream cheese god.
Woe unto those who pull late night study sessions and make bagels for their friends.
The smooth sea of cream cheese that was in the container is gone.
Red attacked the white spread with reckless abandon, like a drunk Godzilla at a miniature golf course.
I must hide the peanut butter.
Why did you stab the cream cheese so? From where does this angst come?
I cradle the container in my hand like dying badger and sob silently.
Woe is me.
Woe, is, me.

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