onions are quite possibly my favorite vegetable of all time. i love them fried, raw, sauteed, burned. . . i love them on sammiches, hotdogs, eggs, salads. . . i love them, i love them, i love them sam i am.

sometimes i don’t love dealing with the dragony onion breath. it’s really bad right now and actually i am sort of reveling in the badness of it. it’s so bad that if i were a mouthbreather, oberon’s monitor would be melted.

it’s so bad that i even bought some mints when i was at the gas station fueling up ol’ ruby for our trudge back to work tomorrow.

my breath is so bad that when the doofy kid standing beside me at the gas station said, “Gee you’re tall,” i didn’t want to say anything for fear of burning the eyebrows right off his face.

but said something, i did.

“yes, i am,” because you know what else do you say to the ‘gee you’re tall’ remark.
“how tall are you?”
“six foot five.”
“wow!”

that’s when cutie dark haired gas station guy leans down and looks at the doofy little kid, who clearly must hang out at the gas station all the time because when i went in doofy kid and gas stations guys were having a conversation about the proper way to throw a boomerang, and said, “remember this: there’s nothing on earth better than a tall woman.”

then i blushed and left. because well, what else can one do?