Seafood omelettes sound kind of disgusting. They are kind of disgusting. And yet they're oh so good.

Every Thursday I buy milk and juice at a gas station. I finally asked the woman there, Ute, how to pronounce her name. It's "OOH-tuh."

Omelettes should probably never contain shrimp, crab meat and cream cheese. And yet it was oh so good.

This is the earliest I've been out of bed in weeks. That breakfast better be worth it.

It's breakfast at work day, right? I just opened my bottle of orange juice to find a big gob of mold in it. Talk about sucking the joy out of my morning.

Butter rum muffin = key to happiness.

Every Thursday I go to the same gas station to get milk and juice for breakfast. I keep expecting the clerk to comment, but she never does.

I'm jealous. The Bunny and The Chicken are off having breakfast, and I'm not. Oh well. My fault I'm missing out on that.

It it ain't eggs, it ain't breakfast. (I'm so susceptible to slogans.)