Tuesday, May 01, 2007

This story is part of the roommate story countdown.

Ques comes into my room, "Dude Rory, there's some brownie batter in a bowl in the kitchen if you want some." Sweet. I think cool, I'll lick the bowl clean maybe the spoons too. I'll get that little innocent looking patch of chocolate on my nose and then someone will see what a mess I've made of myself and call me a fat slut. It'll be just like my childhood.

I go out to the kitchen and there is if a full bowl of chocolate, what is this? "Dude, I told you I made brownie batter, that's how I eat it." He's not going to cook it, he's not going to make delicious brownies. He wants to eat it like its freaking pudding. What the hell? You can't just eat the stuff, what makes it awesome is the method and the ever so tiny quantities. He's now ruined this for me forever.