No, I'm not here to sing the praises of breakfast -- All Glory and Honor to Breakfast, Amen -- but scramble for something to throw against the wall. Eggs aren't as good as one would think, for they're far too runny; nature's creepy crawlies they are not. So, let us harken back to the Golden Age of this blog when I used famous birthdays as a posting save because of insidious brain drain, an affliction working on Black Death hyperdrive this week. Wikipedia, ho!
Let's see, Philip II Augustus of France (did a paper on him once upon a time en français, big A, but what do you expect when you slip the prof a twenty), noted limey pervert and artiste Aubrey Beardsley, famous conqueror and hooptician Wilt the Stilt, and a bunch of other people, most of them also dead. Speaking of corpses and blood, Countess Bathory did the mortal coil shuffle way back in 1614, the commies rained on Prague this day in The Year of the Hippie and in 1831, Nat Turner said 'fuck you cracker' and got his rebellion on.
One more thing. Since Americans, like the NCAA, are self-deceiving hypocrites, I suggest that we as a nation adopt one of their practices. The University of Memphis, for using an ineligible 'student-athlete' -- vaguely similar to saying I was hired for my looks instead of my vast repertoire of people skills -- must officially vacate their 38 wins and 2008 Final Four appearance and give back all the loot they earned for such on-courtery. Sure, I know it happened, you know it happened, but it didn't happen. We should do that with the BFEE. Sure, I know there were eight years of fuckery, you know there were eight years of fuckery, but if we officially say there weren't, everything will be fixed, and Hussein X is off the hook for that whole justice gig.
Harboring doubts? Watch and learn, chumps: no, the Browns did beat the Broncos. The Drive never happened, nor did the Fumble. Oh, sweet memories of my youth, how I love you so. See how easy that was? Thank you, NCAA!
Let's celebrate!
If that doesn't make you want to relive those days, you're beyond help.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Scrambled eggs
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20 comments:
The secret to eating eggs is to cook them over easy, and then eat them with lots of toast. soak up the gooey yolk with the toast, and then make a toast sandwich with the rest!
I love breakfast.
We go to Denny's many Saturday mornings for their Grand Slam special and no matter how much I try to replicate them at home, my scrambled eggs never taste as good.
I hope they're not serving something weird like ostrich eggs instead of chicken eggs.
Graves, you swine!
Your damn commenting thingy won't let me comment. And I just made elaborate instructions of the fine art of Omelette making.
Regards,
Tengrain
I thought this was going to be about cooking, and you turned it back into sports.
You have a problem.
Today is Wilt Chamberlain's birthday? The guy who swears he had sex with over a thousand women?
Is he still alive after all that sex? ;)
Food and sports--two avenues Americans use to blot out the pain of everyday life. It doesn't work...
Mmmmm I love eggs! Scrambled are my favorite! Throw in some bacon and toast and I might just sleep with whoever made them for me.
I'm easy. Over easy.... ;)
Tee Hee
((Hugs))
Laura
dr.zaius, that's ingenious! You should write your own cookbook, show that hoity toity Iron Chef Tengrain a thing or two!
christopher, ostrich? Yuck. Everyone knows the best scrambled eggs are California condor.
tengrain, you bastard, I triple dog dare you to do a fancy omelette post at your place!
übermilf, so do you, if you think I'm going to talk about cooking over sports.
dusty, Wilt should be a wingnut hero. See what happens when you have all that sex? You die!
liberality, that's why I like to add a third rail of booze.
sunshine, whaddya know, I just happen to have scrambled eggs, bacon and toast right here on my desk!
Well I came by to eat the breakfast and for ... whatever... but they told me you were out for lunch.
It was delish! Merci Randal.
Muah!
((Hugs))
Laura
Graves, you swine!
This is all you need to know about omelettes: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWmvfUKwBrg
Nothing, absolutely nothing has changed in all the years since. This is the way it is taught in cooking schools today.
Regards,
Tengrain
That post would be perfect save for a small suggestion to substitute the word "buggery" for "fuckery" near the end. It just makes it sound a little less consensual.
Does anybody know how to make a health care omelette without breaking any legs?.. oops, eggs? Do football players have health insurance or do they just shoot them post injury?
OMG - eggs will always be my favorite breakfast staple - done anyway actually. How keenly you segued into the sports - excellent!
Yes, Wilt Chamberlain scored with more women than any man throughout history. And now, exclusively on L'ennui melodieux, we are revealing Wilt Chamberlain's secret pickup line:
"Next!"
I use to think money and sex were what Americans used to blot out the pain of everyday life. But Liberality is right, I found that out as soon as I got married.
Secret to great eggs is to watch Julia Child on YouTube.
graves
when you come to ny
i will take you to the best breakfast on earth
christopher, ostrich? Yuck. Everyone knows the best scrambled eggs..........
I thought you might belong to the Octomom?
sunshine, I'm never out to lunch, I'm quite stable.
tengrain, I probably saw that segment as a kid. My grandma always watched that. Dammit, now I want an omelette.
dean, excellent point.
susan, not sure about the particulars concerning physical ailments, but if their noodle's been rattled, they usually let them wander about town.
themom, see, not everyone hates sports, you fucking commies.
tom, maybe they were afraid he'd dunk them and then they'd get stuck.
BB, I can't believe you would curse the sanctity of marriage with your harsh words.
holte, sure beats the way I scramble 'em.
dcap, gladly. I just hope we don't run into Giuliani.
christopher, if I did, then I could get some of that fat reality show scratch.
Another masterful feat of segue derring-do, Randal. From eggs to a French monarch who went croquers centuries ago, to an errant basketball team.
And then, to provoke the sharp of eye to ask, you slip in an unfamiliar acronym, at least to those of us not half smashed on Vino de Gasolino, or some such: BFEE. OK, you've had your fun. So, what's it mean?
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