You know, Beth asked me to write about eggs. That seems like a pretty bland subject, doesn’t it? But when you get right down to it, what isn’t weird about eggs?
First off, I’m not really into eating other embryos…so why eggs? That is why I go “Nah nah nah” and ignore trying to reason with just what I’m eating there. I don’t want to think about it; I just want my damn eggs over easy with toast.
Ok, sure, it’s tapered and all but I can’t think it’s that pleasant for the chickens to lay. It’s too wide. If they were going for pleasant that egg would be a lot more narrow and better tapered! Nobody enjoys taking a giant dookie that is the shape of a grenade; you need a nice proper width and taper here folks. But I digress…
The secret is to start at the source: the chickens. We’ve been giving them slide rulers and teaching them tax auditing in the hopes of having the squarest chickens around. Square chickens should hopefully yield square eggs…just give it a couple of millennia for the DNA to adjust…
Here’s another ridiculous thing about eggs: their shell. Oh sure, great for the chick to peck its way out of but a pain in the rear for us embryo consuming maniacs.
How many times have you had to try and fetch an egg shell from the scrambled egg bowl? It’s not easy. The egg forms this invisible goo barrier that somehow prevents you from actually reaching the shell; it’s always sliding the shell just slightly out of reach. Infuriating. But thanks to technology I’m working on….no more!
Oh, and how about those people that actually blow all the contents out of the egg and then paint the shells. I’ve got advice for you folks. Go get some river rocks and paint them! First off, you won’t have to blow on them for hours. Secondly, they won’t get crushed at the next Earthquake…
Finally, let’s consider all the crazy things we make with eggs…
Scrambled Eggs. What’s up with this idea? How many other things do you see scrambled for enjoyment? I don’t take my pancakes and scramble them up into a big fluffy heap and serve them. I don’t mash up my hamburger into a hideous pile and sprinkle salt and pepper on it! This seems entirely wrong!
Deviled Eggs. Granted, I could eat these until I explode. I have no control. But why do they call them that? Are they going to be serving these in hell? That’ll be just fine with me! Isn’t this kind of weird to serve like this? It’s sort of like carving out a watermelon and then taking what you carved out, whipping it up with some other ingredients and then throwing it back into the watermelon. Weird.
Egg salad Sandwich. Another weird one. I see the egg, but I don’t see the salad. Why do they call this a salad? I don’t see any tomato. I don’t see any carrot or cucumber. Is this like a Caesar salad? I don’t see any croutons.
Ok, one more thing. Aren’t you secretly disturbed at seeing brown eggs? No, it’s not a racial thing…they just happen to look like turds. I don’t really want to be cracking open a big brown turd.
Ah, I could go on an on about eggs. Like I said, they’re weird.