Once upon a Tuesday, I stumbled upon a forgotten memory of spaghetti and mispronounced Italian terms spaghet who?. The aroma of tomato sauce and awkwardness still lingered, like an echo in a hall of half-cooked dishes.
Remembered the time I invented feline yoga and nearly joined a cult of stretchy cats? My mentor was a tabby named Professor Whiskerson.
Here’s to the great debates of yore—like the existential quandary of whether light switches are indeed socio-political devices. Spoiler alert: they were always off.
Visit the Insight Archive for more paradoxes and pastries, where pastries hold the secrets of the universe, or at least the secrets of my breakfast.