- Wait… what?
- Oh, right, the whole ‘I should really eat better’ virus that invaded my brain over the weekend.
- What’s this sticker on the front? Dry ice? Isn’t that made from the stuff fancy chefs use to make instant ice cream?
- AM I GOING TO GET INSTANT ICE CREAM?! *happy office chair twirl*
- There is no ice cream in this box. *sad office chair drag*
- So apparently I now have a box of Discs Infamously Manufactured Erroneously Assuming Tongues Imagining Nomming Greatness or DIMEATING. There is
goofgood in this situation somewhere. I just need to think. - *thinks hard*
- Visions of steak, pasta, and molten chocolate cake appear frolicking through a beautiful field.
- Then a veggie burger, dragging it’s dry carcass over a hill to ruin the fun.
- Decide to look up dry ice on the internet, because hopefully that will distract you from the Thriller dance DIMEATING are now doing in your imagination. Wait, dry ice can BURN you?! I HAVE ORDERED A WEAPON. WITH FIBER.
- Fan yourself to get over panic of dry ice. Doughnuts brought by contractor catch your eye. You already ate two this morning. That is more than enough; however, this is an emergency. Like, resorting to a plain cake donut emergency. (If only you’d worn white instead of navy, that powdered sugar one would be yours).
- What do you even put on these things? Ketchup? Relish? Ranch Dressing?
- Whoa, whoa, whoa… ranch dressing goes on a salad, so according to science… these things are a salad!
- Celebrate science with a doughnut.