Microwave Rice Packet

Probably three of the best words ever invented by Uncle Ben.

Let's sit on that for a second. Hatch it. Like a hen would an egg. An egg that I would've used to make a delicious omelet. But let's pretend it isn't plucked exactly at the time of ejection by the dexterous but ever gentle hands of our theoretical Joe-Buck. Super hyphenated farmer. Let's pretend that it is sat upon and the heat of chicken ass created a living being. This living bean. Let's call it a chicken. But you shake your head from side to side saying, "This chicken ain't real." I would agree with you, because this chicken is a mere representation of our slow contemplation of Uncle Ben. I would also chastise you for your use of the word "ain't" as it's reserved specifically for child molesters, southerners, and people who suck at Battleship.

Hush your mouth. Stay on topic. Four score and seven beers ago I would've told you how throughout my lifetime the only way to make rice was painstaking and slow. You would believe me as you hadn't experienced my life up to this point and you would have to take my word for it. Could I be lying? Possibly. But why would I lie about rice. There are so many more worthy things in life to lie about. Herpes. Your mother's abortion that is etched into your family time line somewhere between you and your younger brother. A strange rash that may be misconstrued to the general public as herpes. You know, I'm pretty sure a lot of people lie about herpes. Hence it's addition in my three-pronged list twice. After that last portion one would ask, do you yourself have herpes. I would ask, who are you talking to. I refuse to format that last part as if someone was speaking. Because it's really just me being hypothetical about this whole herpes situation. The answer is no. I do not have them. But perhaps Uncle Ben's were flairing up, and that's what caused him to make microwave rice.

Theory: Uncle Ben had herpes. Microwave rice reduced his cooking time, thereby reducing time he spent standing. Uncle Ben had herpes on the bottom of his feet.

Theory two: Uncle Ben was one impatient motherfucker. There, you got me to say a dirty word. Well maybe it's true. We can't exclude theories simply because they might not be acceptable for children. Maybe he blew up at Aunt Ben quite a few times because rice took way too damn long to cook. He said, "WOMAN, I NEED SOME DAMN RICE." And she said, "HELL I KNOW YOU DID NOT SAY THAT TO ME, GO INVENT SOMETHING."

Unlikely.

Theory three: Uncle Ben is a fictional character. This is the 21st century, scientists figured out how to shoot microwaves through tiny packets of rice causing them to cook. I use my microwave for precisely 90 seconds to cook it perfectly. Uncle Ben is merely a front.

Unlikely? More like... HORSESHIT.


I apologize for bringing you down this road. Obviously, the legend of Uncle Ben microwavable pouches is equal to the Kennedy assassination, Area 51, the Lochness monster, and where your mother buys her underwear, etc.

The world may never know.

But now you know the world may never know.

So... the more you know.