The Shotgun Wasn't Loaded

THIS IS NOT today's lunch, but I knew I was going to come around to it sooner or later. This is what happens when I have a dozen eggs in the fridge, sunny Spring weather, and time on my hands. (I have no idea what I mean by any of that, except insofar as this is what happens when I decide I can do whatever the hell I want.) It's kind of a version of the Monte Cristo, which traditionally is sliced ham and turkey with Swiss cheese between slices of French toast. This is turkey and bacon between French toast with two mustards and American cheese, which, frankly, makes a great deal more sense to me. In essence, it's a way to add eggs to my usual TCB, and, frankly, that was just a matter of time. The better part of it is naming the thing. The Wifey insists that The Monty Python is funnier, but that doesn't take into account the fact that I haven't run The Harry Cristo by her yet.
(Today's lunch is an omelet. Turkey, shallot, cheeses, bacon. I know, I know. Boring. Predictable. But they're saying I can have one egg a day and not automatically drop dead these days, and frankly, I can do the sums.)
This is the movie of the day. Yup.
I almost left it at that, but then I would be remiss. Unless you are a hard-core, devoted, beloving Harold & Kumar fan, you can save your time here. If you are a hard-core, devoted, beloving Harold & Kumar fan, save yourself! Grab on to a Sugar-O! Because they do some things with the characters here that are just kind of nasty for the sake of plotting. And that plot is nothing to write home about. Eventually things start coming together, especially during a claymation sequence about the pros and cons of tripping, a scene where Kumar treats Santa for a shotgun blast to the head, and, of course, during the vaunted NPH segment, which is both everything I ever could have hoped for and all too brief. But where the first one was a legitimate quest saga beset with stoner humor and street-level philosophizing, and the second was a blown-out saga of escape intent on blasting stereotypes to hell, this was . . .
It's tempting to call it lazy, but I'm not entirely sure that's how I feel about it. After all, the subject matter makes some things inevitable, and others obvious, so it's going to come off as being too easy anyways, and hey, after all, we are talking about the K&H franchise, so it's not like it ought to be shouldering the troubles of the world. (Although the last one did make some serious efforts in that direction.) It's like Christmas. You can expect to get a bunch of stuff you don't particularly want or need from a bunch of people who don't know you as well as they think, but you'll still get a few real gems you never would have expected from those special someones who really love you.
Jesus, did I just write that?
So count your blessings, eat your eggs, and rebuild those things you know could be built better. Gaze upon your world and appreciate the bright greens and blues that are the fine hues of Spring. And watch the Harold & Kumar Christmas movie. You kind of have to, eventually. After all, all you gave them was that crappy scarf.