Pain… We dread it.
Some endure it. Some can’t.
Some prefer death. Some welcome it as proof of life.
But who really knows what it is?
Who really knows the true nature of pain?
Good news. I do.
Pain is French bread.
And it’s lovely. Especially warm. With cheese. Mmm…
Bread/Pain – always better when warmed up.
I figured that other members of the Loose Bloggers Consortium would have more profound things to say about that other peskier kind of pain. And you can find out what, by scrolling down the right hand side of the screen and clicking on their links.
Meanwhile from me, you get bread.
Mmm… Wheaten.
Blackwatertown 
I suppose if you shove a stale baguette up your bum you get both kinds at once. Specially if you don’t use butter.
Well… It would be a shame to waste a fresh one.
Either I am easy to please or your take on pain is really so stupidly funny I can’t stop laughing.
U
It must be because I’m a comic genius. No other explanation seems right.
I experienced a mild degree of pain in Tesco’s the other day. They had packets of Belfast baps; now with more than half a century experience of baps I could see and feel that they were not Belfast baps whatever the label said. I found a manager and explained my/their difficulty, showed him and an older employee with him the offenders but got nowhere – just as my wife had predicted. What next? Will Cheddar cheese and Champagne be similarly treated with contumely. On the other hand, sometimes ‘contumely’ is an appropriate personal condiment!
I remember the days when they were just baps, without the extra label. That doesn’t make me old. I only started hearing the new name a few years ago.
But anyway – better Belfast baps than Belfast confetti.
Vereeee funeee! I’ll hop along to the Boulangerie any day with you and we can drool as we decide what delicacies to have.
I’m salivating in anticipation.
Pain is stepping on a piece of lego in bare feet- no deep psychology, just pain and often expletives.
It’s the most effective way to find lost lego. Works every time.
You have taken away the joy of the phrase bun in the oven forever, I shall now start saying Pain in the Toaster! And I am borrowing your graphic for some nefarious purposes.
I like that phrase: “See you? You’re a pain in the toaster you are!”
Yeah, it kind of works.
I prefer your pain to the others as well but here in Texas good bread is nearly impossible to find.
That’s sad to hear. You need something decent for your steak sandwiches. Cuban bread is sometimes good.
Omg, I had a piece of French bread about an hour ago. No need for the toaster, a little butter and I’m good to go.
Still, I like Rummy’s expression “pain in the toaster.”
Thanks for the laugh, HH.
Blessings ~ Maxi
I remember when people in the USA were rebranding French Fries as Freedom Fries – I guess french Bread slipped through the net.
I have a pain in the toaster most mornings, but then he goes to work – sorry. Today’s delicacy will be Olive Toscana for lunch which is basically a posh French stick – or the Marie Antoinette of foodstuffs :o)
You see, that’s the difference between you and Tim (first commenter).
You insert things into your posh French stick (though what? details please) whereas Tim is more eager to insert the French stick itself. Does that count as culinary differences?
“In the cellars of the night, when the mind starts moving around old trunks of bad times, the pain of this and the shame of that, the memory of a small boldness is a hand to hold.” ~ John Leonard.
What perfect timing! I’ve just lost a parent. But contrary to what you might think or expect, what I feel is relief.
The pain was endured for three years and ten months to the day. Not physical, but worse, mental. But that is over now and a release.