It's not quite breakfast, it's not quite lunch, but it comes with a slice of cantaloupe at the end.

Let me just take a moment to talk about how much I love brunch.

It's the best meal in the entire world.

You get to sleep in, then you get up and eat steak & eggs, or huevos rancheros, or a Belgian waffle, or bagels & lox, or a Breakfast Plate (3 eggs, bacon and/or sausage, some sort of bread item, and some sort of potato item).

You are also allowed--nay, EXPECTED--to drink a Mimosa, or a Bellini, or a Bloody Mary, or 5, as early as 11:00 in the morning.

How can you go wrong with this?

This is such a fantastic idea that I have mastered the Bloody Mary. My Bloody Mary has a name: the I Can See Through Time Bloody Mary.

This is such a fantastic idea that I have thrown whole parties around it; Lunkfest, for example. Or my 35th birthday, which was spent in pajamas, watching Intervention with my friends.

And you know the best thing to have at brunch?

The brunch/breakfast casserole.

No matter how you feel about the casserole, you have to admire the brunch/breakfast casserole. You're the hero with the brunch/breakfast casserole.

You wake up on a Sunday morning, stagger to the kitchen, try to remember where that bruise came from, attempt to make coffee, remember that 10 of your friends are coming over at 12:30, and then realize 12:30 starts in 5 minutes . . .

You run around the house for a few seconds, trying to dress yourself, wondering what on earth you're going to serve these people . . .

And then it hits you: you made that breakfast casserole yesterday.

It's sitting there in the refrigerator, a cool 9x13 rectangle of bread, eggs, meat, and cheese. You just have to turn the oven on to 350.

When your friends arrive in 35 minutes (because you know those bitches can't get ANYWHERE on time), they all have champagne and orange juice in hand.

And you take the bubbling brunch casserole out of the oven, to your friends' delight, as they're hung over too, and they are looking forward to a plate of meat and cheese and bread.

They toast to you, celebrating how awesome you are.

And then you all watch a Law & Order marathon.

Seriously, if you can come up with anything better, then you must live in Tahiti.