As I type this I am munching on a cold raspberry-filled, sprinkled and frosted Pop Tart.

I don't have a toaster, furthermore, I can't see buying one just to heat up a Pop Tart.

Cold Pop Tarts are kind of like a pastry, while hot Pop Tarts are totally different. I really think I like them better cold. Pop Tarts like milk, but I am afraid that my milk has seen better days. You know your milk is bad when it refuses to come out of a tipped up carton. That would be a good way to break people from drinking out of the jug, just send them over to my house for breakfast.

Cereal and cottage cheese for everyone, yummy.

When you have a refrigerator the size of a microwave, it is awfully hard to figure out how anything could go bad. There really isn't enough room in there.

I have about six eggs that expired in late June, spoiled milk, flat Pepsi, hot peppers, pickles and three or four kinds of jelly. I also have canned biscuits, stick butter and squeeze butter, mayonaise and ketchup.

With all of that stuff, you would think that you could come up with something to eat. I don't really have any food in the refrigerator, just a bunch of stuff to go on it.

That is why I am eating a cold Pop Tart.

I had considered having an egg sandwich, but my bread was looking a might gamey.

There isn't anything worse than gamey bread with overdue eggs and a slice of milk.

I usually eat out these days, going from restaurant to restaurant in search of the perfect meal. When you are married or live with your parents and you go out to eat, it is a special occassion. When you are a single man and you go out to eat, it is nothing of the sort.

I actually look forward to eating pinto beans and corn bread more than I do eating a large pizza. I would also prefer fried cabbage to hamburgers, homemade greens to tacos, lettuce and onions to chicken sandwiches and homemade anything to eat-out anything.

I never thought I would feel that way, but you know, they say that the bread is always greener on the other side.

But, alas, such is not my lot in life. I went over to my parents' house the other day and my mom made chicken and potatoes and fresh green beans with fat back. I didn't want to leave.

But I don't have enough of an appetite to cook a complete meal for just me. It wouldn't make sense to cook up a mess of beans and cornbread and then end up throwing over half of it out or eating it for two or three weeks straight.

Some things, like Hamburger Helper, beans, chili, stew, goulash and spaghetti, get better with age to a point. Of course, rigor-mortis sets in after a while and it isn't fit to eat after that. But I don't care how good it is leftover, I don't think I can stomach eating anything for three weeks straight.

So I go out and support the local economy by buying miscellaneous food items for basically two meals per day. I eat lunch out and then I get supper out as well.

For awhile there I had thought of skipping lunch in favor of a little brown bag, but after you've had hot food for lunch, it is hard to break out the brown bags or the Starsky and Hutch lunch box.

My Pop Tart is gone now. Breakfast is over. The time has come to put food on the back burner and move forward with every day life and things of more importance.

Like working hard so that I can afford to buy lunch and supper and don't end up eating cold Pop Tarts three times per day. Now there's a life goal for you. It's enough to make you want to live with your mother.

Get more tongue in cheek commentary this week's issue of the Alleghany News!

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