So I had a half empty carton of eggs that had been rotting for sometime in my fridge. I'd decided to keep them for hurling purposes, as sometimes there is an annoying "john" on the block. I would never hurl at the ladies. Though I talk a big game, I am an empathetic person at heart. So there they are, hidden yet present, and more than likely pretty lethal if injested.
I decided to make brownies yesterday, because I had a box of baking chocolate and I didn't want to see that damned mouse get any of it. I melted it with some unsalted butter in a bowl over a pan of hot water, and mixed in a sinfully large cup of white sugar. mmmMMMMmmm!
I even added some vanilla though it was uncalled for.
So it was time for the eggs. I grabbed a carton from the fridge and cracked away into the thick, brown, glossy mixture. The first one was ok, maybe somewhat dodgy, 'cause I could spy some red veiny wisps in the yolk. But ok, I decided to let that go because I am a food freak, and mostly phobic, so I decided to let that one slide. It would be baked, and all would be well. The second egg was seemingly ok too, 'cept that when I put the shells into the compost bowl, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that froze me still. I'd grabbed the wrong carton of eggs!!!!!
UUUGHKKKKKKKKKK! There was a small cluster of black beads, quite large living on the inside of the shell of the egg. IT was the most disgusting thing I had seen in a while, and it was SO sad, to have to dump the entire mixture into the bin. Wahhhhhh.
Of course I made another batch, and I pitched the rotten eggs that once held so much promise. The brownies were overcooked, but they still tasted wonderfully. Sadly, I can still conjure up perfectly the image of that dark, beady colony. *shudder
I have been checking out the new Chad VanGaalen album. It's not as immediately likeable as his previous, but there are at least one or two songs that have wormed their way into my head. Check out graveyard.