I am at a local bakery and I am looking at the bread. And it hits me.
Bread is a metaphor for life.
Bread is a metaphor for our bodies.
Bread is a metaphor for what happens to our bodies as gravity takes its sad toll, yes.
Bread is a metaphor for my bum.
Note: I suppose that is why smaller versions of bread products are referred to as buns, although it is not quite clear as to what came first: The Bun or The Other Bun.
Regardless.
There are young, perky buns. Ah, yesterday.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBGrF9Aut60b0DfvJgvG37bgMttqotQaRBzQOpU3DjWVj_6Y2XwV_eCiQ5zfitT7ULOW3n8S-2BYe0BKcz9cscVvPRxS-gUi2LtFPaA60VwF5MvyckHdD35Et0iNNgyszNsdJl48g4jrGd/s320/Roll+Big+Ole.jpg)
There are soft, round, dimpled buns.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhuH-lWjQH0bBxe-IMyG9rqPVs30n4ZPmeeEUbU0KC1SNRCnqk2snV8B46UcjmJyGrUL9oZBdYos6sD1xXwEBlUlrmOujw0jVS22aTc_4LqxzsZal9nng4jB4Q3O67tRTnqJQcI9aDEpuh/s320/Roll+Dimple.jpg)
There are long, pointy, torpedo buns. Be careful. You could poke your eye out with that thing.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_BRnOkXH7S7gl7AtcgGRXA02-63hyFgFhUM4COo6nQG7dVv-v-Yt6-hqTtbjlJOzobn4_dQ90jnlFFRXgLqDu0UanIg40kiJcxRFGim31eOMc3Lg2jGyY9Sjji6qqX3lUvTK_wNcTCSd/s320/Roll+Vertical.jpg)
And then, there is my bum. Gravity, indeed.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC1d0xrr2vjytSiXroMgq3X4vnX1fGgC6sTDl9ylhJ4VawcXfbSAYxXaxOltrq1uNgw-OJGWScRnkLZFTAA0Wg2YuojTlw9IKJLd9aYVdo9cbm8ihC0jYPhS_FULYdKvzLlYp5BiouV8ji/s320/Roll+flat+warty.jpg)
I think I need a sandwich.
Heck, yes!
2 comments:
I just don't know WHAT to say.
That leaves a really bad image in my brain. Thanks a lot!
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