I’ll Take my Waffles with Spaghetti on Top, Please.

Ew. I know, it sounds disgusting, terrible, gross, extremely objectionable, offensive, or disgusting. Ah, but that is my brain. Huh, my brain. Not actually my brain, but kind of the way it works. If you didn’t know, women’s brains are supposedly made of spaghetti because of their thoughts going every which-a-way. Men’s brains are supposedly made of waffles because of all the small boxes each thought staying inside its box. My thoughts go crazy sometimes, and other times I can’t get my brain to work outside of a certain square. My spaghetti will sometimes twist like crazy inside the box, thinking of everything possibility yet never escaping the pastry cell. That’s why I can work on one thing forever. That is also why when talking about saddles with knee blocks to keep the rider seated, I think of testing the saddle on kangaroos. (Someone said Australia and I let the spaghetti free before I could even reach for the zipper.)

Oh, and if you’re wondering, no, I don’t eat waffles with spaghetti. I put peanut butter on them. Yum!

So, any weird conversations recently? Do you think your brain is a waffle or a spaghetti?

Men are Like Waffles, Women are Like Spaghetti
Men are Like Waffles, Women are Like Spaghetti

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