Saturday, January 28, 2006

Post the fiftieth: if I were God (part 1)

Welcome to my fiftieth post!

Last semester, I used to eat icecream sandwiches a lot. They're only 50 cents in the Talmage Building vending machines, you see. I was in a habit.
And then I learned about Neopolitan icecream sandwiches. And now it's less of a habit and more of an addiction...except I can't say that or else I'll lose my Ecclesiastical Endorsement to go to BYU. So it's not an's more of a...fantasy. Fantasy, yes. I fantasize left and right about Neopolitan icecream sandwiches.
There's only one thing I can say: whoever made up the idea of the icecream sandwich was a genius. Kudos to him. And to God for giving him the idea. God is a genius. And...I think he gets his fill of icecream sandwhiches every morning.
Waking up to the golden tone of a celestial alarm clock (and don't tell me they don't sleep in heaven-heaven is sleep-I'll definately sleep some in heaven-ooo-perfect dreams) God puts his fuzzy slippers on, walks downstairs to the sound of birds singing and looks at his wife cooking eggs on the stove.
"Honey, can you grab the Eggos from the freezer?" she asks. (they have Eggos in heaven, too)
So as he reaches for the Eggos (because he's the perfect husband and would do anything for his wife), he sees the Neopolitan icecream sandwiches. He gives her the Eggos, but takes the icecream out, unwrapping the plasticky wrapper and folding it into the perfect origami bird.

mmm...icecream sandwiches...breakfast of the Gods.
God eats icecream sandwiches for breakfast. And I would too. If I were God, I'd eat icecream sandwiches for breakfast everyday and never have to run off the calories.

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