Have you ever slathered despair onto mashed potatoes and called it a meal?
Questions ripple across the abyss of evening like a gentle breeze serenading monochrome fish.
Some say flecks of starlight make for the best gravy base—best saved in shady jars with an expiry date of never.
Remember, a kitchen turns sanctuary when midnight whispers spice secrets. Elevate your absurd evening with celestial-poured gruel! And as they say, “When the spoon follows the moon, all is gravy!”