A letter fromme the hearte

HUGE MUFFIN.

No, I'm not calling you that, I went to Molly Stone's to get some oatmeal - of which they are out - and instead found muffins - of which they are bountiful.

These muffins are not the normal kind of muffin that is pleasant to get along with. These muffins are lopsided, unsymmetrical, and utterly breathtaking. The body of this particular muffin is similar to the others - a small, almost infantile body is dwarfed by the king's crown of muffin top. It spreads over the rest of the world, towering over the small body both in heigth and width. I'm almost afraid to eat it out of respect for the muffin and its creator, but that is until I take a bite, and soon throw that theory away and awash myself in the mysteries that is the muffin lore.

Muffin lore is a wonderful thing. I, like you, have never been a big fan of blueberries (blubios, in the vernacular), but within the mysticism that is this muffin, some new and glorious truth has been written for me, and the deliciousness is the king's bounty, the pirate's treasure, the baker's contribution to the world.

I stated before that the muffins are not the pleasant kind, this fact remains true. It takes a strong force of will to interact healthily with this muffin. One must understand that the muffin cannot be consumed all at once - as some of the waifs and rastabouts do with their tomfoolery and canoodling - this muffin must be savoured, and can only be understood by a true Muffinologist, and while I certainly am on that path, I would hardly consider my own knowledge of muffins and muffin lore to be anything more than average.

And yet, average when it comes to muffin lore is an interesting thing. So many people who I encounter in a day, whether it be in work or in play, do not carry with them neither the knowledge or the physical sticky presence that is a muffin. Perhaps I know more than I like to claim - but I will remain modest until I can prove to myself that my muffin lore truly is muffinologist worthy.

With that, I consume.