A S'more By Any Other Name

[Cainad (dec.)]

The local grocery store chain has put the ingredients for s'mores on sale for most of the summer. These items are usually placed right next to each other, so that your tiny consumer pea-brain will quickly put the puzzle together and realize that yes, you are an easily-manipulated glucose-burning protein engine and are conditioned to desire things rich in simple carbohydrates.

What I'm trying to say is that I live alone and I impulse-bought a box of graham crackers, a bag of marshmallows, and a package of the sugary soft wax that most will recognize as Hershey's chocolate.


July the Twenty-Second, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

I do not believe that my landlord would approve of my lighting even a small bonfire in the backyard. Even if I did, it would only highlight the fact that I purchased these items without any plans to share them. (For those unfamiliar with s'mores, I should clarify that the items used to make them are only generally available in large packages and are traditionally consumed at summer gatherings).

I also do not wish to use the microwave oven, as that would require me to go downstairs and possibly interact with the other people in the house. They wouldn't understand.

No, they would understand all to well and think themselves superior for not succumbing to the same circumstances which ensnared me in the grocery store. In the absence of dignity, discretion will suffice.

I have elected to roast the marshmallows over a candle, using a fork.

I have eaten three s'mores this night. I can't recall what I actually had for dinner.


July the Twenty-Third, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

I have eaten another s'more upon getting home from work. There is a second marshmallow skewered on the fork, ready to be melted and applied to the other ingredients I have set out on the plate.

I suspect that the mere notion of having control over one's life may be the greatest of humankind's vanities. My fifth s'more in two days lies just on the edge of the Future, and I shall soon find myself reaching past that edge and tumbling into the Abyss of all meaning.

[Junkenstein]

I would have thought the candle would have given it a foul taste.

This is how you do science. One step at a time into the future.

[Raz Tech]

You are truly doing God's work.

[LMNO]

PRAISE BE TO THE CAINAD, AS HIS IS THE WAY AND THE SMORE.

[Cainad (dec.)]

I have moments of clarity, but only feeble ones in which I can but observe myself moving inexorably forward in time. The s'mores still await me for some horizons to come.

[Aucoq]

You, sir, are awesome.




I'm now hungry for s'mores.

[Cainad (dec.)]

July the Twenty-Second, Year Two-Thousand and Fourteen:

Why do marshmallows come in such large packages compared to the graham crackers and chocolate bars? The marshmallows are probably the one thing I am least likely to consume on their own. I suspect some nefarious design behind this, but I do not know by whom or for what purpose.

The sixth and seventh s'mores flew by. I can hardly remember them even know, mere minutes after their consumption. This frightens me more than the gooey horror that were the third and fifth s'mores on previous days. Am I becoming acclimated to what I am doing? Does this make me stronger, or weaker?

[Pæs]

THE QUESTION PLAGUING THE GREATEST MINDS OF THE AGE: CAN CAINAD EAT MORE SMORES THAN HIS COMPETITOR CAN ORANGES?

[Cainad (dec.)]

THE QUESTION PLAGUING THE GREATEST MINDS OF THE AGE: CAN CAINAD EAT MORE SMORES THAN HIS COMPETITOR CAN ORANGES?

fuck no

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

THE QUESTION PLAGUING THE GREATEST MINDS OF THE AGE: CAN CAINAD EAT MORE SMORES THAN HIS COMPETITOR CAN ORANGES?

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

In the absence of dignity, discretion will suffice.

(At the whole post, but especially that little nugget.)

[ñͤͣ̄ͦ̌̑͗͊͛͂͗ ̸̨̨̣̺̼̣̜͙͈͕̮̊̈́̈͂͛̽͊ͭ̓͆ͅé ̰̓̓́ͯ́́͞]

THE QUESTION PLAGUING THE GREATEST MINDS OF THE AGE: CAN CAINAD EAT MORE SMORES THAN HIS COMPETITOR CAN ORANGES?