When I moved into my current mother-in-law/loft apartment, I used the kitchen facilities in the downstairs portion of the house. Since then I've changed downstairs neighbors, and my new downstairs neighbor has recently acquired himself a live-in schmoopie. So now I've been gradually setting up kitchen-keeping in the formerly disused kitchenette in my domicile. So far, it's pretty much a flashback to dorm life, with a mini-fridge and a toaster oven handling my feeding chores, although I plan to enlarge my culinary life by dragging my microwave up here later this week.
Last night I swung by Kroger to stock up on supplies for my itty-bitty coffee maker and, on impulse, also picked up one of those Wolfgang Puck "Gourmet Rich Mocha Lattes" in the New Self-Heating Can! (Bold, italics, and punctuation all from the original.)
This morning I trundled out to the porch, turned the Magic Can upside down, removed the metal safety cover, poked the bottom of the can, and... Sorcery! Witchcraft! Deviltry! Isolationism! Free Silver! ...the can heated itself like something out of a bad '80s cyberpunk novel. Drinking my cybertechnonanoheated morning Joe, I feel like I should "punch deck", rather than log onto the internet. Cool. Kids these days don't know how good they have it. Where's my flying car?
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2 comments:
I am waiting for the eye implants and all the other enhancements described by Gibson.... still haven't read Mona Lisa Overdrive.
They're both good (MLO and Neuro). :-)
It's cold, where's my second-skin?
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