Hokay,
So here I am, sitting home alone and whatever. I decide, hey, you know what, I'm hungry. So I meander to the refrigerator, thinking about the wonderful delicacies that await me. And then, just when my stomach begins to rumble: LETDOWN!
Now, let me tell you the contents of my fridge: Milk. Dinner Peppers. Cheese (a shit-ton of cheese). Sour Cream. Hot Dogs. Lunch Meat (no bread). Some concoction that my roommate made.
What can I make with that: nothing. I decided I might be able to cook up some hot dogs and eat those, but then I thought of how much effort that would require. First, I'd have to get a pan (wash the only pan). Then I would have to boil water, place the hot dogs in the boiling mess, wait, and then prepare my hot dogs. Total elapsed time: roughly 10 mins (I'm exaggerating a bit). Eventually I thought: To hell with cooking. I'll just go hungry.
Then I wondered about how that mentality would get me through life. Can I really just say that I am going to quit something because it's too hard. So, I started to ponder that. Then I went on Facebook and forgot about it.
Anyway, now I am sitting here, typing this out, and I'm still hungry.
This is why cooking = lamesauce.
And also why I can't have nice things.
UPDATE: I FOUND CHICKEN TENDERS IN THE FREEZER!!!!! WIN!!!!
