i think that if i ever had an acid trip, it would just be that song.
you lucky bastard. i will now writhe in jealousy for hours upon end. damn you. damn you all to hell. and let there be no doughnuts in the waiting rooms of any place you ever go to. so there.
ah, but if i steal your one apron and drop it into the scortching fires of the mighty toaster oven, then the technicolored aprons will once again have freedom in the vast lands of Middle Kitchen.