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Poems about food I found at my house after coming back from Thanksgiving break

[Ken Burns music playing in background]

Okay, this is “Poems About Food I Found at My House After Coming Back From Thanksgiving Break.”

 

Old quesadilla

Old quesadilla.

I’m not sure when I first met you.

Are you from the buttery? Or perhaps Salsa Fresca.

The answers to this question, and to many others, are lost forever,

lost to time.

Old quesadilla.

Shrouded in mystery.

I see that I took a bite out of you,

but why did I put you back in the fridge,

only half-eaten?

Now you are disgusting.

Goodbye.

 

Eggs

Eggs.

Are these still ok to eat?

Angelo, do you think I can still eat these eggs? I’m kind of hungry.

[Angelo’s response]

Yea I agree. Maybe I’ll just break one and smell it?

[Pause] I feel like—I feel like I need protein, I’m gonna go for it.

Oh, wait, these are Jack’s eggs.

 

Dino Eggs Oatmeal

Oh my god, I forgot I had these, perfect!

They’re not expired, are they?

They’re good until 2025.

That doesn’t seem normal.

Anyway, these are amazing. My chicken eggs may have expired, but these guys survived a meteor that killed off the other dinosaurs.

And they survived Thanksgiving break.

The best part is you don’t need to add anything to this oatmeal. It is an oat-MEAL. The finished product.

 

Song courtesy of FreeMusicArchive – “Robo Crambo” by Doctor Turtle

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