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M.I.X. the crack into the bowl

When jai_dit mentioned popcorn, this sparked in me the desire to have some of that for a post-midnight snack. So I started with popping some. And since popcorn is far less good without butter, or reasonable equivalent thereof, I dug around in the refrigerator and came up with the latest in the succession of tubs of random reasonable equivalent. I decided I would use less than I usually do, given that I am attempting to eat somewhat healthier. A little glass bowl later, the microwave came into play. I decided a minute would be good.

The serious banging emitted from the microwave came just before the thing stopped. I opened the door to behold that the bowl was not in fact half-full or half-empty, but almost entirely empty. It seemed that a minute had been more than sufficient to liquify the substance, with results that I should have been able to have predicted beforehand. "Oh, dear," I said in that tone of voice.

Now, my roommate knows that tone of voice. "What did you break?" she wanted to know.

I briefly described the situation that ensues when you microwave this substance for long enough to liquefy it, and then long enough for it to develop vapor bubbles that will send it flying hither and yon.

"MY MICROWAVE DID NOT NEED LUBE!"

"That's why I'm in here with a paper towel."

At this point, it's about 3:30 in the morning, I'm standing in the kitchen with a greasy paper towel and laughing helplessly. hcolleen tells me that she has decided that no further sense can be salvaged from this conversation, and she's putting the headphones back on.


...yeah, this is the life. I've been doing a lot of laughing lately. It's good for me.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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