I'm Feeling kind of Krabby Today by Dave "Gorgonzolla" Collins

The dank oceanic scent of salt, seaweed and marine things long since dead wafts through my room stirring me from my catatonic sleep, reminding me that my bowl of crab bisque has congealed just enough to be no longer edible.  What better thing to have for breakfast?

Seeing as how I do not deserve food worth eating, this is just perfect.

Stale molding bread, toasted to the point of blackness makes an excellent accompaniment.

I shuffle to my chromium dinette, fashion a spoon out of an unwashed tin can ensuring the edges are sharp and jagged, and proceed to choke down my fetid meal.

No wonder I feel krabby... I would have it no other way.