Bleat
James Lileks is on fine form this morning, ranging from the travesty that is nuked plastic food, to the misery of being seperated from his wife and child:
"At the nadir of my life as a gustatory imbecile, I ate microwave pizza. The process was quite complex - you had to put the frigid discus in a foil-lined box called a “crisping tray,” which I will use someday as the name of an effete British author: Crispin Tray. Then you bombarded it with beams-0-heet, as they would have been called if the technology was ubiquitous in the 50s, and you got a soggy slab with exploded cheese and flavorless toppings that made the roof of your mouth hang in shredded strings for three days afterwards."
12:37:55 PM 
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