Kurt Vonnegut made famous the phrase Breakfast of Champions by using it as a title for a 1973 novel.
On the other hand, this is nothing more grand than a delicious breakfast recipe for a wannabe champion.
Kurt Vonnegut made famous the phrase Breakfast of Champions by using it as a title for a 1973 novel.
On the other hand, this is nothing more grand than a delicious breakfast recipe for a wannabe champion.
“Sceptical?” piped up the old-timer. Of course I’m flamin’ sceptical ye addlepated mudfish!” –
“Aye, but it wasn’t always so. I was a dour and solemn presbyterian from birth onwards, and bar the whisky, gossip columns, loose floozies and muckraking, a devout one too! But all this changed suddenly in the winter of ’94, twenty years ago, when Auckland was struck by drought.
Very close to sea level are some of the places which afford me a View from the Top nowadays.
One is a very short walking distance from Otaika River, looking Westward toward Onerahi, my old stomping ground at Tamaterau, Parua Bay, and of course, the Maunga Manaia.
I was lucky enough Thursday evening to meet a small cohort of extraordinary people via the friend who originally put me onto the The China Study.
I spent the evening soaking it all up, like a pup loose in a seal colony, and finding some surprising points of similarity. One of those was an interest in podcasts.
Which reminded me that I’d been meaning to write something pointing to some favourite podcasts, and a couple that were mentioned, and new to me.
I love peanut butter. Sometimes I’ve been known to eat it by the spoonful.
But not just any peanut butter. It’s important to get the right one, otherwise you’ll regret it.
There’s nothing wrong with faking your own death. You get into trouble when you start making people pay for it.
Hell will be smelly , not hot as the Bible and Billy Graham tell us.
I surmised this today, as I laboured to rid my whare and surrounds of bad odours.