I find yet another food item in the supermarket that talks directly to me. Yes, After Eight. You ARE for me!
I got back from the store 2 hours ago and cannot get this out of my head. Pancake AND FRIENDS. I don’t get it! Who is friends with the pancake and how did they get in that bag? There are no pancakes with friends. Are my pancakes alive? What would their friends be? Mr. Bacon? Lady Syrup? I just don’t think they are in the bag. This is really messing with my mind.
Its starting to creep me out that my laundry machine is getting too personal.
I live in Stockholm where we only have one authentic Mexican restaurant. It’s been around a couple of years now but I think they are finally getting fed up with the Swedes who don’t know how to eat Mexican food. This flyer was in the restaurant yesterday. It reads, “How to eat a taco.”
C’mon kids… don’t you want to dress up as me? I cut my hand off when I was a resident. Don’t worry, I’m much more qualified now!