Early Morn & Breakfast...

I am a bit of a racing fan, what...well, Formula 1 fan to be precise...sounds odd, I realise...very true...especially since I'm quite the advocate of, and slave to public transportation...cars I feel are a waste of perfectly good road...not to mention precious fuel...

Regardless, I digress...being a racing...ahem, Formula 1 fan...I have the habit of disturbing the tranquility of the household...much to my mother's chagrin....every other weekend in order to catch the race at an unGodly early morning hour...well, here we are and it's the British Grandprix this time round...

So as I sat on the sofa rubbing my eyes in the wee hours of the morning...I found my thoughts turning more and more towards the subject of breakfast...

As it turns out...and as embarassing an admission as this may be...I am quite possibly the worst cook in the entire world...in the words of the immortal Blackadder...there are ameoba on Saturn which can boil a better egg than me...however, the growls eminating from my abdomen demanded that steps be taken...so I decided on venturing into the kitchen and embark on a quest to make pancakes...

And here they are...ladies and gents...the greatest peice of art since Vincent Van Gogh's "Potato Eater"...

I shall leave you with "Kashiff's" personal adaptation of an age old anecdote...enjoy...

Cheers

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I went to school, ya know. I went to grammar school and once we were taking a test and I was copying this other kid's paper, and I guess the teacher heard my xerox machine. She said, "Kashiff, am I stupid or were you cheating?," and I said, "Ah, yes and no." She sends me to the principal's office and I get there and sit down and he looks at me and says, "Kashiff, Kashiff, Kashiff" I said, "I'm the one in the middle, you drunken slob."

He said, "Kashiff, how would you like to repeat the fifth grade?" I said, "I don't know if I could do it exactly, but I could try." He said, "I could expel you!" I said, "You'll have to catch and eat me first, ya wierdo." He said, "Kashiff, you'll have to see the school psychologist."

And I said, "But why do I have to see the school psychologist?" So he shows me the petition. So I went to the psychologist and he says, "Kashiff, what does this ink blot look like to you?" I said, "Well, it's kind of embarrassing." He said, "Kashiff, everyone sees something silly. Don't be embarrassed. Tell me, what does this inkblot look like to you?"

I said, "Well, uh, to me, um, it looks like, uh, standard pattern number 3 in the Rorshach series to test obsessive compulsiveness." And he got kind of depressed, so I said, "OK, it's a butterfly." And he cheered up.

"And what does this ink blot look like?" I said it looks like a horrible, ugly blob of pure evil, that sucks the souls of men into a vortex of sin and degredation." He said, "No, uh the inkblots over there, that's a photo of my wife you're looking at." "Oh, was I far off?"

He said, "No, that's the sad part." And he gave me a chocolate easter bunny and I ate the bunny, then I thought, hey, this isn't easter. "Is this a test?" And he said, "Yes." "And what does it mean?" He said, "Had you eaten the ears first you would have been normal. Had you eaten the feet first you would have had an inferiority complex. Had you eaten the tail first you would have had latent schizophrenic tendencies and had you eaten the arms first you would have had a latent narcissitic complex." "Well...go on, what does it mean when you bite out the eyes and scream 'stop staring at me?'"

He said, "It means you have a tendency towards self destruction." I said, "Well, what do you recommend?" He said, "Go for it."

Cheerio