Whenever you hear (or think) these words, beware…
I was just heating up the Quesadilla maker (which my co-worker Kate generously gave us — no doubt because she got tired of trying to clean the goddam thing), and after waiting for it to heat up I thought… “Hmmm… That actually sorta smells good — in a weird sorta way… Sort of like those flat breads that you get at the State Fair………”
But when I went to insert the tortillas, I opened the thing up to find a crusted horrid mess of burnt cheese and former tortilla and egg (I think?) and beans and god-knows-what-else.
Not so much appetizing.
Nevertheless, I cleaned it, and shall now place tortillas upon its surface and eat the result. Whatever that may be……..
(But, then, I should really just shut my bloody trap. Shouldn’t I.)