Sweet goggled goggles, that is some delicious business.

There are words for those, but I don't know that "sweet" is one of them.

Sorry about that. I'm drinking some hot chocolate (or cocoa, depending on which of those two god forsaken phrases you prefer), and it tastes quite delightful (despite the horrendous name. Seriously. Can't we come up with something better than that?).

Anyway, I thought that I would start this off with a delightful story of potential woe. See, I currently have a headache. My first thought was, "Oh, Rob, when will you learn to get things done early enough that you might go to sleep at a reasonable hour? You're only causing yourself great discomfort and woe. Hence the potential woe. Also, Neurotic Self-Deprecation is back! You cannot stop me."

Excuse me, folks. I'll be right back.

Just need to return some videos.

Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. My first thoughts went to fatigue. That was ridiculous, because while I got to sleep later than usual, I also got a few hours more of sleep. I have a rather serious snooze button problem. Well, really, I don't. If I were to admit it, that would mean that I did have one, so I really don't have a problem. Unless the denial itself means that I do in fact have a snooze button problem. Mais bref.

Of course, then I thought a bit more. I mean, I haven't exactly been eating my usual fare the past couple of days. Speaking of, blueberry break.

Don't act like you don't want them.

THEM'S SOME ANTIOXIDANTS, FOLKS.

But yes. I haven't exactly been eating my usual fare. I mean, yes, I've been eating more Cheez Its (read: any Cheez Its, because while I may or may not have a snooze button problem, I most certainly DO have a Cheez It problem, because those little baked crackers of cheesy goodness are delicious. Plus, they have no cholesterol, so they're actually healthy, right? That's my story and I'm sticking to it. You can't make me give them up. WE'RE IN LOOOOOOVE. But someday, I'm going to run out, and there will be rainstorms and darkness and all sorts of depression.)

John Cusack is for chumps. He's not related to WEDGE "I Killed A Death Star Without The Force" ANTILLES.

Well, it's not Cheez-Its. What could it possibly be, then?

Let's talk about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. See, most folks make a nice even split between the peanut butter and the jelly. They might even use a variety of jellies or jams. Maybe grape or (God help us) blackberry (ew. Nothing against blackberries. The seeds just bother me.). Rob, though? He's a preserves kind of guy. And not just any preserves. STRAWBERRY PRESERVES. You get some of that red goodness into play, and I will end that sandwich in about 2 minutes. Seriously. People have seen me do it. It's not pretty. It's really an act of great carnage.

For some reason, this picture and the one of Locke with an orange came up for "peanut butter and jelly sandwich carnage."

Rob enjoys his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. However, he does not use mere mortal proportions of peanut butter. Hahaha no. He uses absurdly gigantic proportions of peanut butter. Positively preposterous proportions of peanut butter that might even be called Brobdignagian (because Rob loves that word). I mean, there's practically peanut butter dripping off the sandwich. Well, dripping might imply a less viscous material. Again, hahaha no. We're talking a giant tub of Peter Pan peanut butter that Rob just slathers onto his sandwiches. Well, not the whole tub at once. That'd be preposterous. However, there is certainly quite a bit of peanut butter on these sandwiches.

Now, of course, there are some potential problems that might arise in such a system. For example, I might run out of bread. Well, then I'm quite screwed, now, aren't I? I can't very well make a sandwich without any bread, much less a delicious peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The very notion is preposterous. Times like that, I'm forced into eating some leftovers or (worse) buying a bit of food at the cafeteria or one of the many local eateries and eatery franchises. Likewise, I can't make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without jelly. Sometimes, well, I run out of jelly and haven't made it to the store yet. Thankfully, this is America, and we can work around such problems. That, friends, is why we make the peanut butter and honey sandwich.

There's a point that comes back to the whole beginning thing, I swear. We're a bit more than halfway there.

I AM POSITIVELY CONSTIPATED WITH ANTICIPATION.

These things have happened before, and I've worked around them. Like I said, leftovers and honey are super helpful fixes for these things. Well, there's one issue that I thankfully haven't run into yet. I've never actually run out of peanut butter and been out of leftovers. Again, we get these ginormous buckets of Peter Pan Peanut Butter, which are incredibly helpful and will last me, oh, a couple of months. Even if I run out, I'll surely remember to go to the MEETING STREET PIGGLY WIGGLY (if you'd been there, you'd understand), and I'll pick up a smaller thing of peanut butter to tide me over (see, the giant ones are from Sam's. It's seriously, like, a gallon of peanut butter.), and everything will be great until I need to get more or Joe and I get to go to Sam's.

Well, after Thanksgiving, something terrible happened. Really, several terrible things happened.

First off, I had cleared out the fridge beforehand. In itself, this isn't bad. I mean, I needed to go to the MEETING STREET PIGGLY WIGGLY and pick up some fruit, milk, and supplies for the next meal I'm going to make. (It'll be tomorrow. It's going to be some kielbasa in a goat cheese and possibly cayenne pepper cream sauce with mushrooms and other vegetables over pasta, because I am a sassy bitch like that. Tonight, I've got trivia and am going to munch on a delicious half-price quesadilla.) Well, okay, so that's a problem, but that can't be that bad, right, Rob?

Haha, that's only the first terrible thing.

The second is that Joe has been out on away rotations and interviews, which is awesome. He's got lots of good things going his way, and it's all very exciting. Of course, this also means that his Sam's Club membership is many hundreds of miles away, making it utterly useless to me.

Really, JOOOOOOOOOE!

This means that I haven't been able to get any peanut butter. Normally, this wouldn't be bad, but I mean, I'd be pretty screwed if I ran out of peanut butter, because, as I said, I haven't made anything from which to derive leftovers yet. But, hey, it's not like I'm about to run out of peanut butter or anything. That would be patently ridiculous.

Guess what happened.

Yep. Ran out of peanut butter. Did so pretty much right after I got BACK from the MEETING STREET PIGGLY WIGGLY.

It is truly an amazing place.

Well, that was Sunday. It is now Tuesday. Rather than spending money on cafeteria food, I made an interesting discovery in the freezer.

I am, of course, referring to magic noodles.

I think I had seen these things once before in the freezer.

Like this, but more magical.

These were a bag of noodles with some assorted stir fry like vegetables. You throw the bag in a bowl. You put the bowl in a microwave. You heat up the bowl. It steams the whole thing. It works wonders and becomes absolutely delicious. Well, at least at first glance.

See, while these things are delicious, they're a bit on the dubious side. The vegetables get all soft and such. They're all bland and questionable. The noodles remain delicious, but there's some sort of mysterious brown sauce on them of which positively no good may come. I'm sure that they are chock full of some sorts of vitamins and minerals, the likes of which the world has never seen. (You know, the "miracle vitamins discovered by the great Dr. Krebs that will cure cancer, AIDS, lupus, acne, and your broken arm all for the low low price of $99.95. Act now, because only one small Asian man knows how to produce this miracle vitamin, and his pancreas is starting to fail AS WE SPEAK CALL NOW.")

Well, wouldn't you know it, I ate a pack of those yesterday and today. And now I have a headache.

There's only one conclusion that could be made. No, don't be ridiculous. It's not as if these preserved and wonderfully artificial noodles and vegetables could be causing any sort of headache or anything of the sort. No, that's poppycock.

Okay, I need to go to trivia. This is an egregious loss of flow, but it has to happen. I'll be back as soon as I can.

And that just happened. Congratulations to Ajax and his team, who won a hard-fought contest (well, for us- they just breezed on by).

Meanwhile, back to the story at hand. Yeah, those noodles probably caused that headache, which is still here, by the by, and it is the worst. I mean, it's pretty terrible. Here's a cranky-ish Bill Nye (happy birthday, by the way- I never really watched your show growing up, but you seem like a pretty legit sort of fellow).

My finger was up a butt today. You can deal with the lazy image posting.

So these noodles are currently causing a pretty terrible headache. Assuming it was actually even them. Maybe it was the prostate exam, or even my socks. I've taken them off, and the foot airing is making me feel slightly better. Seriously. It's the headache cure we've all been waiting for, and it's only available for a limited time (i.e., until you take your socks off anyway AND TRY TO MUSCLE IN ON MY RACKET, YOU SWINE).

However, there was a point that I was getting to before I was rudely interrupted by trivia, and it is basically the following:

I've got the Futurama worms.

THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT.