Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Butter My Bread?

This admission might result in some blogemmies and outright break-up's. I hope it doesn't, but I am ready to live with the consequences of sharing my dirty little secret. Ok. Ready? Set. Go.

One of my guilty pleasures is that every single morning, I take a fresh, homemade slice of sourdough bread and pop it into the toaster. I watch as my sumptuous soft bread turns to a golden crispy beige and then I immediately take it out of the toaster, so it burns my fingers just a teeeeeeeeeeny tinnnnnnny bit. I carefully butter the center and each corner, listening to the crunch and watching the hot bread soak up chilled pats of butter and then.... well. I watch my buttered toast for 30 minutes. Not like consecutively or anything, that's creepy. I watch it intermittently. And then I throw it away.

I'm on a fucking diet. I feel terribly guilty about it, just not enough to like, you know, stop. Not yet anyway. Cut me some slack. I don't just loooooooove this particular sourdough bread and butter, I am wild for it. It's other worldly. I could commit to monogamy with this bread. YEAH. I know.


Distributorcap said...

i know toast!
(see pic)

Joe Fresser said...

Your story had the opposite effect on me than what you expect:

Immense admiration!

Put a piece of buttered fresh sourdough toast in front of me and it will go down the hatch.

Remarkable restraint on your part.

Mountjoy said...

Buttering sourdough, and watching it for 30 minutes before you throw it away?

That's kind of like a married man going to a strip joint and not touching the dancers, is it?

Adam Deutsch said...

I wouldn't share this with the baker of the fresh, homemade slices...they make fresh, homemade stuff in L.A.?

Chaylene said...

Ooooh, are you into spanking too? hee hee

I am in awe of your self discipline!

Dale said...

I'll take that toast, I'm like a garbage can when it comes to warm buttery toast.

Bubs said...

That is one of the most fascinating pieces of ritualistic self-denial I have ever heard of.

I'm with Dale. Next time, deny yourself, but give the toast to me.

Mmmmm. Toast.

Madam Z said...

I don't get it. Why torture yourself? Do you eat something else, like raw oats or dried spinach, in that half-hour that you're watching your toast? To expand on Mountjoy's theme, it could be like a married man fucking his wife while looking at a porn magazine.

But if it works for you, and you're losing weight and keeping your sense of humor, who am I to quarrel?

Mountjoy said...

Yes, Madam Z, have you ever wondered what would happen if a married man went to a strip joint, sat down the front with a porn magazine and some hot buttered toast, then tried to stuff dried spinach into the dancer's g-string?

Madam Z said...

Why yes, mountjoy, I HAVE wondered that! The question will haunt me to my grave. I'll leave it to you to do the research, though.

Mountjoy said...

Wonder no more! The "artiste" stopped mid-show, a bouncer came down, and yelled in my face: "WHAY SORT OF A ICK FUCK SITS THERE WITH HOT BUTTERED SOURDOUGH AND DOESN'T EAT IT? GETOUTTAHERE! YOU PERVERT..."

And I was thrown out into the gutter. Where my mind has stayed ever since.


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