Alright, people. Here's the scoop. I definitely just pulled a gray-matter-muscle with the following intellectual overkill...
I walked into the kitchen in search of something to satiate my stomach's sensations of starvation. Behold! The pot of tortellini alfredo I concocted last night beckons banally; I never could resist the pasty perfection of pasta, and ME WANT SOMES!!
So opens the silverware drawer, I - and looks in to find me a fork, aye - and spies I with my little eye--aye!--that my roommate took the last god-damned one and probably used it to shovel some rancid-ass cheese-covered cacophony of culinary carnage into her gaping maw and then tossed it somewhere where I'll never find it 'cause she's evil and crazy and sloppy and lazy instead of washing it and putting it away as would a normal person who doesn't hate me and isn't out of her bass-ackward crack-smokin' little rat mind, and the only other freaking fork to be found is sitting in the sink, in another one of her week-old messes.
So I think to myself, "Hrmm... maybe I'll skip the pasta and go for something I don't need a fork to eat." (EDIT: More accurately, I was thinking I was going to brain myself if I had to wash one more of MY f*cking dishes that SHE had dirtied and left to rot for days.)
...So, without another thought, I made scrambled eggs.
=D
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