“The best restaurant in Covington, where I live, is the Waffle House, a chain restaurant located just off the Interstates throughout the South. Not only is the standard waffle and sausages superb, the chicken is the best anywhere. The people are pleasant…One bite of waffle drenched in butter and corn syrup, plus Tennessee sausage, plus a huge glass of sweet iced tea, the waitress calling you honey, the Picayune opened to the latest political skullduggery, the traffic on U.S. 190 booming along – it’s not a bad life.”
– Walker Percy, in Conde Nast Traveler.
meh.
Simpsons did it, but even so: BEST. THEMED. GAG. COMMENTER. AT. KORREKTIV. EVER.
Which one of those gals is JOB?
The Malaise can’t skulk around too much longer, because otherwise people will grow fond of it and offer to buy it beers, and it will become merely a big warm teddy bear instead of the looming tragic figure it aspires to be.
Sort of like throwing love at It in A Wrinkle in Time…
Sounds like The Malaise could use a word from MrsMalaise.
MrsMalaise and I do not speak. We just sit.
Occasionally we refresh facebook or think about buying snacks.
‘MrsMalaise and I do not speak. We just sit.’
I just started reading ‘The Last Gentleman’, and came across this description of a girl upon whom our hero’s become fixated: ‘She was his better half. It would be possible to sit on a bench and eat a peanut-butter sandwich [or in a booth and eat a peanut-butter waffle? –A.N.] with her and not say a word.’
And then there’s Mia Wallace’s bit in ‘Pulp Fiction’: ‘Why do we feel it’s necessary to yak about bull**** in order to be comfortable? […] That’s when you know you’ve found somebody special. When you can just shut the **** up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.’
Sadly, that doesn’t seem to be what the Malaises have going on.
Nice looking gals.
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes.
How was the chicken? How were the waffles with corn syrup?