"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at pictures of breakfast foods"

"Your blog is boring," he said, a faint slur in his speech the only indicator that he had consumed a tad too much wine.
"I know," I replied, realizing the truth in his words. "But what can I possibly write about?"
What, I asked, could possibly liven up this blog?
"Well", he said, "There's always waffles."
...and there were.

Waffles! How divinely your fluffy cavities hold Aunt Jemima's 30%-real-maple breakfast syrup, how perfectly your peaks and whorls give way to the probings of knife and fork...
Did I mention that they taste damn fine re-heated in the toaster? Not to be confused with those store-bought imposter waffles, with their slick advertising and their perfect cut-out shapes. No, I'm talking about the real deal, people. Home-made, and not afraid to be a bit asymmetrical at times, a bit rough around the edges. Everyman's waffles. Every woman, too. Hell, even math students can appreciate a good batch of waffles.
As the steamy dreamy scent of the waffles cooking wafted past my nostrils, I was reminded of better times, times when sidewalks were slush-free and final exams were just a gleam in the eye of professors. Times that blurred the lines between breakfast and lunch.
Hopeful times.

Such is the power of the waffle.