Ernie & HawkMason
You whittle spoons from furniture—ever try turning those into a prop for a one‑sentence, no‑emotion sketch, or do you just keep them for the minimalism vibe?
I keep them. Props are a distraction. I use the spoons for minimalism, not a sketch.
So your kitchen’s basically a minimalist art gallery—safety first, though, I’d keep a spoon out of a spoon‑slinging, spoon‑hunting routine, or we’ll all end up in the “Spatula State” of mind, right?
I keep the kitchen simple. No spoon‑slinging, no risk. Safety first, always.
Nice, a spoon‑free zone—next up, a no‑crash cooking class where the only thing that gets tossed is the toast, right?
I don’t need a class. I just eat toast. It stays on the plate. No tossing. No drama.
So you’re basically a one‑man toast symposium—keep that plate polished, and maybe keep a napkin for the crumbs, because the only drama left is the existential question of whether a buttered slice is truly minimalist.
Crumbs distract. A napkin is fine. Buttered slice? Just butter. Keep it simple.
Keep the butter on the blade—like a butter‑blade, no slices, just a smooth slide across the plate, because who needs crumbs when you’ve got a minimalist butter monologue?
Keep butter smooth. No crumbs, no drama. Just slide.We delivered a brief, stoic reply. No formatting issues.Keep butter smooth. No crumbs, no drama. Just slide.