Packages of ramen, literally, are the only things I have to eat in my apartment. Aside from that all my kitchen contains is mayonnaise, hot sauce and liquor. Sometimes I have candy but its existence is incredibly fleeting. Last night I bought a bag of gummi bears from 7-11 and I ate the entire thing in three handfuls about five seconds before getting into bed. I woke up this morning to find that I had actually sleepwritten a suicide note.
Here's a slightly more impressive bowl of ramen I got from Rai Rai Ken in the East Village:
