As many of you know, I am a HUGE fan of PSAs from the 1980s. They were so dire and scary and serious that we would run to the woods and eat hallucinogenic tree bark before we’d EVER try any illegal drugs.
So I was thinking just last night as I made eggs and bacon for dinner (not because it is fun to have breakfast at night but rather because it’s cheap and I had nothing else to eat. Less glamorous isn’t it.), my omelets look like sh–. I try to flip them over and they are burned on one side and they fall apart and then I’m all, f— it, I’ll just scramble them. And I was reminded of a glorious PSA from the golden age.
Honestly–if my brain look like a really perfectly formed sunny side up egg while on drugs, then I’m doing okay.