Chomperical

Recently it has come to my attention that robots are a potentially dangerous threat to my well-being. As a result, I’ve been looking into acquiring some materials to build an article of robot armor for my self. Now, ideally, I would like to build an armor out of either grade 5 or 38 titanium of thickness of 3 inches with carbon fibers threaded throughout and external diamond coating. All this will then be built on top of a polyester jacket to allow for casual wearing. My robot armor will be kind of expensive so I am accepting donations from my readers in order to see its completion.

I just exited the house when I was presented by the world with a chainlink fence running in front of my face. Usually these are of good quality, but this one had lots of metal cord ends sticking out. The entire fence had sort of a wavy bendy quality to it. I blame it on poor writing. Well, anyway, I was walking alongside it, and my gaze was attached to it, causing my stride to inadvertently angle towards the fence. I continued to take steps forward, causing my eye to come in contact with one of the metal barbs, getting pierced, then sliced across and scratching the side of my face along to my ear. The whole matter probably inconvenienced me only a fraction of a second though. Arriving at a break in the fencing, I entered and saw a concrete loftcube in a large crater. I realize this was probably someone else’s home, but I think it’s my duty to enter the homes of various people and explore them. All that there was available to eat was some sodypop and clay, which is rather bland for my tastes, so I took out my trusty bottle of cock sauce and had myself one fine chow time. Reminded me of the days when I used to wear the old nosebag.

~...~

Our auto stopped for some reason, unable to continue, probably because it stopped. I deboard and am next to a construction site with a large chainlink fence going alongside it. A dirt path leads through, so I walked through; it’s okay I guess, other people were visiting here too. As I got to the entrance, a group of naked people covered in a cloud of mud comes into my field of vision. They were heading north, but not actually moving, so I decided to head north myself. It got to be dark in the evening, and I notice that in my possession is the framework for a pyramid with a lit up bluish/whitish corepiece. I started to wonder about it, and I notice a guy standing next to me so I bug him about it: “do you think you could see this from 700 meters away, perhaps vertical distance too?” “Uh, I guess so.” That seemed to satisfy my curiosity for the moment and I didn’t think any further on the matter.

Hungry! I like eating food!

I’m uneasy about posting right now, because I don’t want to set up a precedent that when readers pester me, I respond with an internote post immediately. But I also have progress about the reprint of my cookbook: there is no new progress.

I gave away all my brownies, so I was sort of feeling depressed. I left the house, and continued in the direction I was heading and soon I reached a three way intersection. There were a bunch of trees on one side of the street, maybe it was a forest preserve or a park. A bunch of people were standing there, so I had to discuss with one of them about how to observe decision processes. And by discuss, I mean we each took turns, one person explains their arguments and the other side takes out headphones and rocks out to some tuneskis, then goms;;u, the side that was able to say the most words without repetition holds correctness. I won of course. The other guy didn’t even utter a word. After this, we headed down east. The sidewalk was all smashed and torn up in disrepair. Some slabs were raised, exposing dirt underneath corners. An occasional tree root was visible. It got to be what must have been a few hours, so we all decided to head back in an auto one of the people happened to bring with.

~“Let’s open our next letter here... oh I get so excited reading these! Hmm... ‘Dear Barley Chef: I was exercising my creativity the other day, and I came up with a brilliant idea! I love to eat soups, but I needed a delicious new noodle to make it extra special. And then it hit me: to make a barley noodle...’”. The television grew silent for a moment, and I watched a grave look come over Barley Chef’s face. “I’m terribly sorry everyone, but the Barley Chef Hour is cancelled forthwith.”~

I felt on top of the world after that swig of milk, but I really had to use the washroom. Some guy was sitting in the corner, facing the wall, and crying while eating something. Next to him I saw a couple brownies sitting on the floor. This scene got me kind of hungry, so I pulled out my plate of brownies and started working on those. I felt it was sort of a special moment the two of us had. Just enjoying some excellent chomps. Neither of us said a word to the other, but we didn’t need to. I think we both understood each other without speaking by means of the brownies.

Fire Fly.

Several of my readers have issued complaints about my recipe collection severely underestimating the intelligence of the reader. In response, I have begun work on a second first edition printing which will both include corrections for and introduce a few typographical errors, eliminate large portions of cooking instructions, and contain an additional section of photographs of food.

I found myself in darkness. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but it must have been the middle of the night. I raised the upper half of my body and look around, seeing only empty space, so I swung my legs around the edges of my resting place, searching for some sort of ledging to lower myself to ground level. It was a success and I began my descent, but about halfway down, a window caught my attention and I halted progress to take in my surroundings. The window was part of an undeterminable-colored house. So naturally, I climbed right in. I smelled some chomps, so I headed through a door to a room with a stairwell going down on one side and the other with a typical bedroom setup: dresser with mirror, desk, shelving unit with books and movies, bed with single shoe placed in center. I was drawn to the shelves, where I picked up a huge piece of strudel that must have been placed to cool and forgotten. I took a bite. Lovely berries flavor. So good. I have it preferred to forest apples. Some brownies on a plate were on the desk and I snagged those too for eating later. Next, I was getting thirsty, so I headed down the stairs and grabbed a half-gallon container of 2% milk sitting out on a table. I broke the seal with a butter knife, drank some of it, but couldn’t finish, so I fumbled around in my pockets for some silica gel but couldn’t find any. Seeing a cabinet door to my left, I open it up and find a tub of rice. I drop a handful of grains into the milk carton and leave it where I found it.

~I missed the Barley Chef today. Even though he’s my favorite, I’ve only seen a few episodes of his show. I have a fear that if I learn the secrets of barley this way, I may ultimately not have as great an overall appreciation for it as I might if I were to try on my own. But if I try to teach myself barley cooking, I won’t ever come close to the amount of barley-related knowledge as modern barley cooks.~

As I walked forward, the thought of the sandwich I ate occupied my mind. I don’t know how much time passed, but it was now night and I could make out something that left an impression to me as being an concrete loft cube at a dig site. I didn’t stop at it, and continued on, reaching a home. I really had to take a piss, so I headed inside, but there was a huge line for the washroom. After getting in, it was completely empty. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I had to use the water to fix up my hair a bit, but I was soon lost in thought. What am I doing here, and why did I get here? What does it look like when someone has a fire burning in their eyes? My eyes look black in the middle. Maybe robots have lights in their eyes. If my face were slightly more robotic, I might be a robot. Everyone kind of is a robot. After all, they pray to Robotsk—someone entered the door. This person had a sad look in the eyes, but I knew how to offer a cheering up. I reached into my cargo pocket and grabbed a handful of brownie. “Hey there, what’s wrong? Don’t worry.. sshhh.. sshhhh... just look at me, everything’s gonna be all right. Here, I brought you some of mother’s brownies.”

Internotable Potables

I was getting pretty excited. Mouth salivating, about to take a bite of a delicious bacon-flavored marshmallow. This must be the first time such a wonderful product has been made widely available. Images raced through my mind, wondering about a new world. I would burst into random houses and rifle through kitchen cabinets, searching, and there would be one item that is a sure find every time: the bacon marshmallows. As I placed the marshmallow into my mouth, I almost didn’t realize the truth of the situation because of my preconceived flavor ideas. This was in fact just a normal strawberry marshmallow.

Seeing there was no longer a wall in front of me, I got out of my cross-legged sitting position, one of my favorites from childhood. Today’s children have much more uncomfortable sitting styles. For example, I believe the current procedure for proper sitting instilled upon youth is to have the right leg stretched out fully, middle finger of right hand wrapped around the right index toe, left leg bent at the knee with left foot resting on ground beneath right leg, left elbow resting on left knee, and back of left hand placed over the mouth and schnoz. All this got me thinking about when I used to watch the Barley Chef on television...

~”Now, our next recipe comes from a Lars Cooldude of Sandwich. Let’s see, first we boil a pot full of barley. We’re off to a good start here! I don’t think anything can go wrong, we have a recipe for success! Alright, drain the water, and stir in some mustard mustard to taste. I’m feeling a little adventurous here, so I’m going to add chopped onions and garlic cloves to mine. Some of you out there might not be able to handle this, I can understand. We’re about done here, so I’m going to pour this into plastic baggies for snacking on the go. Wonderful idea, Lars! We also had a recipe from a ‘Zeefer’, but sadly we do not accept submissions from large organizations, no matter how great the recipe is.” I watch the screen fade through watery eyes and some commercial appears for an upcoming movie everyone has been talking about lately.~

The emergency food station was just ahead. Excellent timing on the food station’s part since I was starved. I headed down the stairs and examined my surroundings. Operating in this environment is first nature to me. I was about to get to work, when I saw that someone must have been here already, since there was a completed sandwich with nondescript soy drink waiting for me. It was really something else: meatballs with a certain special sauce drizzled all over them. So good. Glancing around some more, I found a package that claimed to contain ingredients for a drink that fixes love problems. Even though I didn’t want to risk bringing an end to my relationship with sandwiches, I couldn’t help but imagine the end product. Terrible. I’m ashamed to admit that I thought of it. I’m sorry. On the way out, I saw a tableau that reminded me of someplace I might have been before, but I couldn’t quite place it. I closed my eyes and shook my head, then moved on.