Glacial breakneck speed

Here we are again.   You and me.

Yes, you.  You have to be here because you are reading this.

Unless, of course, I am reading it to you.  That would mean that we are likely in the same place. Which in turn means that since I am busy reading this to you, would you be a dear and refill my beer?

Thank you.

My posts are taking quite some time, which means I have graduated from mere "crastinator" to "procrastinator."  I assure you that turning pro won't have an effect on my ego, though.  Or even my Eggo.  I have no idea how typing would in anyway directly affect the quality of a toaster-assisted breakfast offering.

Since we are on breakfast, let's stay there.  At the moment, I am enjoying a bagel.  Ok, ok, you're right:  at the moment, I am typing.  (You're so smart.)  Let me try again.  Super, very, extremely recently, I enjoyed a bagel.  Well half-enjoyed it.  There's a certain unfairness that you get with a toasted bagel.

The bagel of choice for me today was a sesame bagel, toasted, with a plain cream cheese schmear.   In every bite, if one orders such a thing, one might expect 4 things:  sesame, bagel, toasted, cream cheese.  But this is not what happens.  The bagel isn't engineered correctly.  It's a disaster.

Through a complicated process which I shall term "cutting in half," the essence of the product changes to one-half sesame bagel and one-half PLAIN bagel.   Forsooth!  I never ordered a plain bagel.  Not even half of one.

They could put some seeds on the other side.  It can be done.  When there are long-known-of baking marvels like upside-down cake, I am pretty sure that the bagel place knows exactly what they are doing.  And, dear reader, sesame seeds aren't the only ingredient being skimpily applied.  Onion, poppy seed, salt, and even garlic are given the same half-effort.  So brazen is the bagel collusion that they flaunt the limitless "everything" style, too.   But everything is not everywhere.

But Matt, you say:  Pizza has toppings only on one side.

Quiet, you.

Unless you have some ridiculous planar Ginsu skills and uselessly focused spare time in slice re-engineering, you get the whole shebang in each bite.  Until you get to the bready handle; that's the pizza's warning track that alerts you that cheesy, saucy goodness has run out and you must now angle to grab another slice posthaste.

That is unless the largest existing piece is not directly adjacent to any open space, then you wait for someone else to take the smaller piece, and then you make your move posthaste.

That is unless you are eating alone.  Then to heck with posthaste.  That pie is all yours.

Recomposing your argument, you say:  Pizza bagels.

I say:  That's no argument.  That's righting a wrong.

But it still doesn't take care of 'everything.'

Godspeed.