Brief literary reference.

[packbat]

Of course, that said, I'll probably make fifty posts, including at least ten whining about not having any mustard.

In an amusing instance of self-fulfilling prophecy, ^z reminds me of the classic stretch in Jerome K. Jerome's classic Three Men in a Boat:

To return to our present trip: nothing exciting happened, and we tugged steadily on to a little below Monkey Island, where we drew up and lunched. We tackled the cold beef for lunch, and then we found that we had forgotten to bring any mustard. I don't think I ever in my life, before or since, felt I wanted mustard as badly as I felt I wanted it then. I don't care for mustard as a rule, and it is very seldom that I take it at all, but I would have given worlds for it then.

I don't know how many worlds there may be in the universe, but anyone who had brought me a spoonful of mustard at that precise moment could have had them all. I grow reckless like that when I want a thing and can't get it.

Harris said he would have given worlds for mustard too. It would have been a good thing for anybody who had come up to that spot with a can of mustard, then: he would have been set up in worlds for the rest of his life.

At this moment, I understand old J's feelings absolutely perfectly.

*looks in fridge*

Cursed mayonnaise....