We went to Frank's house for supper on sunday. I offered to bring food instead of always eating his food. I became ambitious and made pancakes late saturday night. Not just pancakes but ones with cheese and apple and bananas. The kitchen was a mess, dough splatters covered me and the walls. I tested some on my dog. He lived, and kept me company the rest of the night in the smokey kitchen. Next was my little brother, he also survived. I figured it was safe to bring these cakes made in a pan.

So we ate at the friends house. Kraft dinner as appetizer. Frank's roommate wanted to eat some really badly. Luckily we had some left. After a few bites he commented on how he had never had fish pancakes. My heart was somewhat broken.

After this ridiculous statement we soon got distracted by matches. We had a nice warm fire at the supper table. Oh and none of the sticky candle stuck to the ceiling when we threw it, and it never fell on a roommate's plate. And he absolutely never ate it.