margarine and toasted white bread

bunnyfoot has been silent for quite some time now. why, you might wonder? what is to blame for this sloth and inactivity? and has it been coupled with a disregard for personal hygine?

yes. and white bread. i blame it all on white bread. toasted. slathered with earth-balance margarine. creepy, eh? i disappeared in order to protect you all. i did it for your own good. i mean, who really wants to see post after post after post of toasted white bread? granted you can pretty it up by cutting it into cute little shapes. maybe you could even supplement the margarine with a smear of homemade jam, but at the end of the day, it's just a big, bland, fluffy cracker, lacking in culinary, nutritional and asthetic appeal. you should note that my mainstay has not been of the crusty baguette type pictured above, but, oh wonders of wonder, um, the rather infamous wonder bread.

and why has bunnyfoot been gorging on this abomination? no, not poverty. nor has my kitchen burned down. and my teeth didn't fall out either. you see, in a somewhat ironic coincidence, bunnyfoot began working at a family planning agency, and managed to get herself knocked up at the same time. there must've been something in the water cooler...

and so, to make a short story long, for the past many months the, um, the fetus has been wanting to eat toasted white bread. slathered with margarine. and i, the toast munching host, began a new job. then we four (host, fetus, feline and male) moved out of our tiny 1 bedroom apartment into more spacious digs. but to be honest, mostly i've been freaking out, dreaming of cigarettes and booze, and, um, toasting bread.

but now that i'm settled into the job, moved into the new pad and more or less resigned to a cocktail free future (the DTs have almost worn off), you'll be hearing from me more often. and just in case you were worried, fret not, for i shan't become one of those maternally-demented, estrogen-driven cooing machines whipping out strips of sears portrait studio photos, reels of home videos, and streaming u-tube clips of pooh-stained diapers at the slightest provocation. i intend to remain the same cynical, bitter little melon that i've always been.

before i get back to posting about the subject at hand, here is a little scene from a recent trip up to the great, green pacific northwest. a sweet little family nibbling on plums and grapes in my pappy's front yard.


it was real cute until one of the neighbors' kids broke out the pellet gun. ah, the country life....