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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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Expiration date is not required, only if you want the note to magically disappear.
A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
Victor had to choose between paddling straight into the rising sun or taking a meandering tacking course which would certainly mean he would arrive late for breakfast.
coffee, aspirin, Rolaids—oh shit, I have become my father.
Cream crackers + homemade blackberry jam = breakfast.
Leftover fried chicken is the perfect breakfast for people who have no intention on living forever; you know, guys like me.
Suddenly the scales fell from Beatrice’s eyes, and she whipped off her apron, set the pile of breakfast specials on the counter, struck a dramatic, showstopping posture (complete with “glad hands”) and threw her head back to proclaim NOW! NOW IS THE TIME!
According to the diary kept by Henry during the climb, it was Emilio who left early on that day in search of breakfast gravy, and not Henry, who opted to stay behind and worry.
Some people answer the call of the wild, but for me it’s the call of the ‘eggs on toast with coffee’.
“Coryanne, dear, I really don’t want to hear about your anise when I’m eating breakfast and trying to read the newspaper.”
Please don’t tell me that meat byproducts aren’t for breakfast, because I would find that culinarily insensitive.
Today I successfully fasted all the way up to breakfast time.
I long for the day when no one gave a shit about trans fat and the breakfast table was a joyful place ladened with bacon, sausage and omelets filled to bursting with cheese and other artery clogging goodies…oh yeah…let’s not forget the crispy hash browns.
“Sir, the gentlemen wish me to inform you that they will, regrettably, miss the first course of this morning’s breakfast.”
I’d take all the fancy restaurants and swap ‘em all for the call of eggs on toast.
If you look outside and see Wilford Brimley staring at your house, it probably means your growing boy just ate all the oatmeal in one sitting.
Gavin found himself thinking Madame Bovary – odd since he despised Flaubert – while he waited for his oatmeal with cinnamon and raison d’etre to cool.
For breakfast Keith ate two buttery lies and an ice cold fable, or maybe that’s what he fed his son, nobody knows for sure.
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