Twist and dunk
It probably says something about me that I have a special glass just for dunking Oreos.
It's a lovely small tumbler, with a fancy purple design and gilded edges. When I first saw it, I imagined myself in an artfully draped silk dresing gown, reading important literary works while sipping healthy and exotic juices.
But it just so happened that the glass was exactly Oreo sized, so really, I had no choice. When Fate gives you an Oreo sized glass, you don't throw that back in Fate's face by sipping healthy juice from it.
Today, they announced a new, thin, "grown up" Oreo. An Oreo that cannot be twisted open. An Oreo that cannot be dunked. Or, as I like to call it, a completely useless Oreo.
They can keep 'em. I'll be here, in my artfully draped yoga pants, watching One Day at a Time reruns and dunking my Oreos.
It's a lovely small tumbler, with a fancy purple design and gilded edges. When I first saw it, I imagined myself in an artfully draped silk dresing gown, reading important literary works while sipping healthy and exotic juices.
But it just so happened that the glass was exactly Oreo sized, so really, I had no choice. When Fate gives you an Oreo sized glass, you don't throw that back in Fate's face by sipping healthy juice from it.
Today, they announced a new, thin, "grown up" Oreo. An Oreo that cannot be twisted open. An Oreo that cannot be dunked. Or, as I like to call it, a completely useless Oreo.
They can keep 'em. I'll be here, in my artfully draped yoga pants, watching One Day at a Time reruns and dunking my Oreos.