Hummus, you know that mashed-up garbanzo goo… well, mostly I can take it or leave it. If it’s there in the fridge, sure, I’ll plunge in with a Dorito or two. But Mrs. Stagger is big fan. I mean huge. Not that she’s huge… no, no, no. I just mean she’s always buying little tubs of hummus. Plain hummus, garlic hummus, olive hummus, all kinds. She even whips the stuff up in her own mighty food processor. It’s almost a weekly thing.
Anyway, remember how we had a Beer Summit? Well, just wanted to let you know that I’m busy arranging a Hummus Summit to solve this crisis.
And, while –as with the manufacture of hummus itself– I’m not exactly sure what-all goes into nominations for the Nobel Peace Prize, it’s probably not too early to send my name in.
Way I see it: I pull this off, I’m a lock.