4.16.2117 Log: My grandpa was just telling

4.16.2117 Log: My grandpa was just telling me horror stories again about how they used to eat animal flesh for sustenance and literally cut into live bodies as a form of medicine.

Grandpa also swigged my last ampule of cerebrospinal fluid and said primal things like, "Sever our link with the One Hard Drive," and "Let's go fishing." Fishing? My encyclopedia

Brown mystery series makes fishing suck eggs. But Grandpa swilled the cerebrospinal fluid some more and cackled, and cackled, and said, "Drink the dreams of dragons m'boy

, then go slay 'em." Grandpa's big head thunked against his chest & I knew he was done for the day. I got to thinkin' about what he said. Slaying dragons was something I could do!

All I needed was to get Grandpa's old rifle out of the attic -- it was perfect for slaying dragons. But first I'd have to get past the angry attic ghost, which

reinvent the pancake, and consider the pancake's perspective in doing so. And thus, the illustrious waffle was born. Some have referred to the waffle as "the illicit love-child of

a cake and a square" but I don't know enough about pastry cheffing to have a strong opinion. I refer to a waffle as "a waffle" if I say anything at all--which I don't.

As the chef started talking about his stroopwafels, I fell back on old patterns of passive-aggressive behavior to show my disdain for his choice of nomenclature.

"Great name! They'll sell like hotcakes!" His creation tasted like steak. People hesitated to name the flavor as Stroop predicted. The chefs experiment got him a PhD in psychology.