The Isolated Blurt Thread XVI: The Butthurt Starts Here

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you silly man! the eggs you buy aren't fertilised.

so eggs are more like eating a period :)

'The executioner insists his breakfast omelette be prepared only from those eggs precisely on the point of blossoming into chicks and, prompt at eight, consumes with relish a yellow, feathered omelette subtly spiked with claw. Gretchen, his tender-hearted daughter, often jumps and starts to hear the thwarted cluck from a still gelid, scarcely calcified beak about to be choked with sizzling butter, but her father, whose word is law because he never doffs his leather mask, will eat no egg that does not contain within it a nascent bird. That is his taste. In this country, only the executioner may indulge his perversities.'

From 'The Executioner's Beautiful Daughter', by Angela Carter.
 
'The executioner insists his breakfast omelette be prepared only from those eggs precisely on the point of blossoming into chicks and, prompt at eight, consumes with relish a yellow, feathered omelette subtly spiked with claw. Gretchen, his tender-hearted daughter, often jumps and starts to hear the thwarted cluck from a still gelid, scarcely calcified beak about to be choked with sizzling butter, but her father, whose word is law because he never doffs his leather mask, will eat no egg that does not contain within it a nascent bird. That is his taste. In this country, only the executioner may indulge his perversities.'

From 'The Executioner's Beautiful Daughter', by Angela Carter.

Kinky.
 


I'll bet today's weather forecast is wrong.


http://radar.weather.gov/Conus/Loop/NatLoop_Small.gif


When the National Weather Service made weather radar available to the general public, they put us on an equal footing with the soi-disant "professionals."

I'm far better at predicting the local weather for the next 3-4 hours than the dopes at the local television or radio stations.


 
I... I'm out of turkey bacon.

And regular bacon.

It's not worth getting out of bed today, clearly.
 
For the past couple of weeks, I've been waking up at exactly 4:38 am. WTF, man.
 
I wish my tongue was long enough to get at all the caramel in this cup.
 
'The executioner insists his breakfast omelette be prepared only from those eggs precisely on the point of blossoming into chicks and, prompt at eight, consumes with relish a yellow, feathered omelette subtly spiked with claw. Gretchen, his tender-hearted daughter, often jumps and starts to hear the thwarted cluck from a still gelid, scarcely calcified beak about to be choked with sizzling butter, but her father, whose word is law because he never doffs his leather mask, will eat no egg that does not contain within it a nascent bird. That is his taste. In this country, only the executioner may indulge his perversities.'

From 'The Executioner's Beautiful Daughter', by Angela Carter.




Only a man who eats eggs this way would name his daughter Gretchen.



http://41.media.tumblr.com/510dec783e9020c628c43d001564df5e/tumblr_nj2wvn4k7n1snm7t3o1_500.jpg
 
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