Peanut butter sandwiches aren’t that cool to look at

This thing begs to be touched more than a Nintendo DS

<< Rewind to Saturday

I got up on Saturday to meet a handful of folks for PB&J, just like I said I would. In hindsight, this place is boring because you can make all of it at home, and with better peanut butter. Better meaning less natural, more sweet.

Paul was first and it took me a second to recognize him through the dark sunglasses. Which was nice because that meant there was some sun out. He’s never had peanut butter before and he still hasn’t. A fetching character nonetheless. I’m glad he skipped the auto show to visit.

Davis came next and I immediately asked to put a fingerprint on his PlayStation Portable. What a handsome number — the PSP was cool too. Nintendo better pull some magic plumbers out of their butt if they want to keep their freakish corner on the handheld market.

Thor and Art followed suit shortly thereafter and we got our brown bagged lunches. Art and I ordered the Elvis (grilled peanut butter with bananas, honey and bacon) and I’m surprised neither of us choked to death. That thing was thick and sticky.

We sat in Washington Park as clouds rolled in and put a dip in the temperature. It was tough to part company as I felt we were just getting started, but there were tickets to a matinee of Shockheaded Peter.

Cramming is stupid. Next trip, i’m tacking on more days to relish.