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Boosted by cstanhope@social.coop ("Your friendly 'net denizen"):
eighthourlunch wrote:
And it came to pasta that I saw a column of light and angel hair in the air directly above my head. And behold, his noodly appendages did stretch forth mightily unto me as he spake: lo, it is finished. Put down thy damned fountain pens and ink, that ye may partake of stuffed shells Alfredo with sausage and mozzarella, for this is my flesh and thou art hungry, and the time for dinner is nigh upon thee.
