I'm thorry if you can' unnerstan wha I'm sayin. Ith juss tha ma mouth is so latherated that it's fecting my thpeech!
I'm not talking, I'm writing?
Oh, right that. Good show. Yes, certainly I can write normally, no problem.
So I will tell you all about lunch!
I had a lovely loaf of Rustica Bakery's Levain bread. This is from the best bakery in my state. The Levain is a lovely, crusty sort of deep sourdoughish bread, crusty and chewy. I sliced it. I had some butter and olive oil that I put on the slices, a pinch of salt. I squeezed a bit of lemon juice over it. I had some excellent English Cheddar that I cut up and scattered around over the tops of the slices. I did the same with several very thin shavings of parmigiano reggiano. I artfully bedecked it all with translucent rounds of fresh garlic and then drew thin, swirling lines over the lot of them with not very much honey. I blasted it in our beautiful new broiler until it was luscious and soft and fiercely crunchy.
I ate one slice at home to test. It needed no correction. I took the rest to work and ate them throughout the day with very much enjoyment.
It was like eating supremely delicious razor blades.
My mouth is criss-crossed with lacerations. Hours after eating the last one my mouth still tastes faintly of blood. Blood and garlic. Butter and blood.
It was worth it. They were very delicious razor blades. And though talking is hard, well, I can still write. What more does a blogger need.