Consider The Waffle.

I require fuel, and that fuel must take a delicious form.

As a writer and college instructor, I have certain expectations placed upon me. I’m supposed to wear tweed (it’s itchy), drive a Prius (I’m too tall), and eschew all forms of sports (I love sports. I also love playing sports, which is a double no-no). I’m also remarkably opportunistic about where I drink my coffee. Case in point, one of my favorite restaurants?

Seriously, if you haven’t been, get thee hence!

I recently acquired this button, and it says a lot about what I’m willing to admit in order to fit in as a writer:

Coffee. Geddit?

I do drink coffee, and the time of day actually has nothing to do with my consumption. I think at this point in my life, caffeine and I have reached a peaceable kind of accord– it agrees to make me alert in the morning, and my aging body assures me that I won’t know if I have insomnia from coffee or muscle pain due to running. Voila! Problem solved. 

As I’ve mentioned often, baked things are an important part of my life. I bake. My wife bakes. My family bakes, and we all agree: you cannot go wrong with pie.

That beauty is a peach pie, but darn near any fruit will do. Let’s get real– the crust makes it great.

Now, onto waffles (and griddle cakes of all nature). I have a maxim, and that is, “If Uncle Buck would make it, then it’s probably big enough.”

And to clarify: Waffles and pancakes are, well, cakes. So, why wouldn’t you consider pie for breakfast? I have it regularly, and people come up to me all the time and say,”Do you really think you should be wearing such a small shirt?” Obviously, it’s doing great things for my body if people want me to take my shirt off. 

And speaking of shirts:

I can use SCIENCE to prove that pie and waffles should be a part of your life.

So. Why aren’t you baking?

Also, why aren’t you reading about waffles and magic? Hmm?

Waffles. Witches. Wonder. Halfway Dead. Get it here.

Until next time!


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