Every other night I order takeout, I eat half of it then save the other half for the next day. Without fail I always order something

delicious so on that second night I come home excited, because after a long and hard day I have food that
I love that will be there waiting for me. I reach into the fridge, pull out tonight’s dinner, slide it in the mi- crowave, turn it on for two minutes, and stare at that glorious metal box in a heightened state of anticipation. The moment that sweet sweet alarm goes off, I pull the food out and start to dig in. As soon as the food hits my tongue, my eyes roll back and I feel my soul leave my body. I talk with my ancestors, with God.

I travel across the universe, time, different galaxies and dimensions. In an instant, all of human history flashes before my eyes until sudden- ly I’m there, back in my chair, eating dinner. Holy $*&*.

You would think a microwave could heat up anything in any container. But no, styrofoam, the thing every restaurant in the world gives you, is one of the things you can’t put in a microwave. I do it anyway. It’s the pinnacle of convenience. Not only is it convenient, I love the taste of the delicious delicious chemical styrene. It’s the ultimate combination of flavor, a cross between Lawry’s sea-soning salt and Slap Ya Mama sea-soning. If it weren’t for the irritation of the eyes and breathing issues, it would be the ultimate spice. Yes, finally, the one thing I truly want with my meal, the same effects as mustard gas.