Overheard at the lunch table today: Yeah, it’s like the generic equivalent of the Li’l Debbie Snack Cake.
Wait a minute. The generic equivalent, you say?!
That made me laugh out loud; or, as the kids are saying these days, I LOLed.
That’s right. I’m hip to the lingo.
The generic thing made me laugh, as there’s nothing quite so generic as a Li’l Debbie Snack Cake.
Cockroaches, gravity, and Li’l Debbie Snack Cakes are what will still be around come the end of the world.
I’m not a big fan of the black-and-white or yellow-and-black generic-label foods (depending upon where you shop) now available. Not only do they occupy precious grocery-aisle space, but they encourage a certain kind of blandness. I’ve actually heard serious conversations wherein someone claims that, say, eating generic instant mashed potatoes isn’t that bad. Isn’t that bad?! Compared to what? The real instant mashed potatoes? Or not eating at all?
Look, I’ve been known to rush dinner. I had oatmeal and toast one night just last week. A little milk, a little brown sugar. What the heck. Simple and filling. I’ve even been known to cook with Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom Soup. My pork-chops-with-mushroom-gravy-and-mashed-potatoes (real) is the stuff of (personal) legend. But instant mashed potatoes? Generic instant mashed potatoes?! Unless you’re crawling on your belly, post-apocalypse, through the Australian desert with a dog, Mad-Max style, I think we can do better.
Join me tomorrow on “Pearl, Why You Little” while I get indignant about something equally as inconsequential!