Where's my ten bucks?
I did it.
I ate Christmas ham for two whole weeks.
I had a salad with ham cubes last night. Gimme my fucking ten bucks.
That I did.
You know, it's not that hard. You just cube up a bit. It's light. You pick a nice cheese and it's not too bad.
Yeah, that was the deal. I'd cook some up for breakfast, work in a nice sandwich or jaffle for lunch, and then fix something nice for dinner. I had baked macaroni with ham one night.
Yeah, things got a little out of control about half way through. I started swapping recipes around.
No, but there was ham tacos, ham spaghetti, and in one large mistake, ham black bean sauce.
No. It wasn't as bad as the time I added ham to my wheatbix, though. I kinda knew that wasn't going to work from the start.
Well, sometimes, in the name of science...
How'd your Christmas go, anyhow?
How'd you go with that?
Well, it's the same end, even if it's a different path.
Fucking cold, though.
I just ate ham for two weeks. My life is not a grind.
I think everyone deals with that.
Yeah, that's the modern life: get the fuck numb and get through it.
There's a line for hating on it. Me, I just eat ham for two weeks.
A little, but mostly, it was damn tasty, and that means something in life as well.
(The 12 Days of Christmas was something I made up 13 days ago. I wrote each one of the day, kinda free form. Sometimes they worked, sometimes I think they didn't. Either way, I hope you enjoyed them. Have a nice end of year.)