So I’m sitting here enjoying some stellar sesame tofu from the new [ENORMOUS] Whole Foods in Glendale. The last bite tried to escape by flying off my fork, unprovoked, and crawling underneath my desk.
I have no idea what is underneath my desk.
I never clean under there.
Nevertheless, I got down on all fours, hunted down the final delicious savory mouthwatering hunk of sesame tofu (covered with a sticky, viscous sauce, may I add) and ate the damn thing. With great relish.
Five minutes later, the sanitation department of my conscience is kicking in. “You,” says the sanitation department of my conscience, “are an animal. Nobody in civilized society eats food that has fallen into the filthy crevices beneath one’s desk, no matter how abnormally fantastic the sesame tofu is. Oh, and hey, why is it so effing abominable under your desk anyways? Ever heard of a broom?”
So yeah. I am seeking validation in the form of your personal stories of complete, decadent disdain for conventional order, sanitation, and general cleanliness. Toilet paper was out so you forgot to wipe? Ate a booger? Ate sesame tofu off the floor? Confess here and help rub salve on my bruised pride.
Last week, as I was out bike riding, I took a hearty swig of water from my water bottle, which I had filled the night before.
I don’t know why, but I felt compelled to look at the water. Lo and behold, there were about six or seven little roaches floating in it. Live, dead, I don’t know. But I knew in the pit of my stomach that there had been more, and that they were steadily making their way down my esophagus.
For the rest of the day, I tried my hardest not to think about it. I kept telling myself that as a biologist, I shouldn’t be squimish about insects. Ingested insects are just ingested protein, I kept thinking. But deep down I wanted to cry all day long over it.
I had an icky shower this morning. I drank a good amount last night, and was punished with a headache this morning. I ate lunch, and after lying around for a while, I hauled my ass (and the rest of me) into the shower.
And after being in the shower for a minute, my lunch came up. :eek:
Puking in the shower is rather gross, but easier to clean up than puking elsewhere.
I once made some lovely Bananas Foster - bananas in a nice brown sugar/rum/butter sauce poured over ice cream. At the same time I was having a bit of a problem with @#@#@ meal moths getting into my cupboards. It was night, the lights were dimmed, my parents were over having dinner, and I topped the Bananas Foster with sliced almonds. It was only when I was cleaning up later that night that I noticed the telltale powdery signs of meal moth larvae in the bag of almonds.
I told my husband. He shrugged, and said “more protein!” I never did tell my parents.
Gadzooks, looks like I’ve been one-upped many times over. :eek: Though to be fair, that was just the last icky thing I’ve done.
Once, around midnight, upon discovering a couple mealworms in the flour AND discovering that the store was closed, I simply ran the flour through a sieve to catch the buggers and used the flour to make okonomiyaki for myself. Yum.
Mmmm. After I got back from survival school five years ago, I was sleeping next to my wife and an ant crawled across my back. Half-awake, I reached back and popped it into my mouth; ants were one of the tastier critters we ate at survival. Fast forward a couple years to me getting chewed out by my wife for eating an ant off the back porch in front of our 3-month old kiddo. FF again to last week when I first moved in to our new house after four months on the road for work - I tried one of the ants at our new place (in a new state) and it tasted really bad, like cleaning or finishing chemicals. I don’t think I’ll be eating any more ants here for a while.
It wasn’t the last icky thing, but to further the bug motif -
I made this huge bowl of pasta salad for my sister’s baby shower. As I dumped the rotini into the pot I realized I had a grain beetle problem. Dozens of beetles doing water acrobatics. So I skimmed them out of the pot. I figured any I missed would be camouflaged by the copious herbs and finely chopped black olives in the finished dish.
Pikers the lot of you. Hmm, how can I make this short and… sweet?
If you are making chocolate cookies and your child needs to have their diaper changed… be sure you lick the globs of chocolate batter off your hands BEFORE changing the diaper rather than after. This will ensure that it is in fact chocolate cookie batter that you are licking off.
My mom came out of the ER recently and was sick twice from the morphine and the extreme pain (neck trauma). I threw out the barf both times and cleaned out the basin. It didn’t really bother me, though. It was just a matter of course.
About a week ago I noticed a hard little lump on my neck. I knew it had to be an ingrown hair but I couldn’t get it to surface. Last night I squeezed extra hard and was rewarded with twin ingrown hairs a little over an inch long.
Last month I visited my dad for the weekend. I was helping out with chores and was doing some weeding in their garden. I was thirsty, but I was too lazy to walk all the way inside the house, get something to drink, and come back. So I went to the hose, put the nozzle near my mouth, and turned the water on.
What immediately came out of the hose was not water. Instead, the hose ejected what seemed like 500 earwigs directly into my face. Oh yeah, there was also this iffy looking orangey brown colored water but I wasn’t really paying attention at this point because I was scrambling around trying to shake off the dozens and dozens of pincher bugs which had been ejected out of the hose and from the viscious way they brandished their pincers, I imagine they were seriously pissed off :eek:
A similar thing happened to me some months ago. I work at a biology lab early in the mornings, and I’m in charge of preparing coffee, cleaning cups, etc. Now, there are many roaches and insects in this lab. One day, I saw someone had left some coffee, so I pour what was left in the cup, added some sugar and creamer, and proceeded to drink it.
I then look at the coffeepot, and realize there are a couple of small roaches floating on it. I look down at my cup, from which I had been sipping, and notice a couple of roaches, too. Not being so squimish, I just took a knife and removed the roaches from the coffee, then drank the rest.
This happened to my sister, not me, but all the other bug stories have inspired me. Plus, it’s too gross not to tell. My sister loves parsley and eats it whenever she can. We were visiting a friend who invited us to take a walk through his garden. Sis spies the parsley, and starts munching. All of a sudden her mouth gets this tingly wierd feeling. SHe looks down to check what she could have eaten, and sees - EWWW!!- half a praying mantis. Those things are so icky to start with, could you imagine chewing and swallowing half of one!?!?! :eek:
As a general rule, I try not to eat insects; I know this is irrational (given that there are other kinds of invertebrates I’ll happily munch), but last year I picked an ice cream container-full of lime(Tilia, not Citrus) flowers from one of the trees on the green in front of my house, intending to make lime flower tea.
When I got them indoors, I noticed they were sort of moving and this turned out to be because they were fairly crawling with little lime-green aphids. I did my very best to shake them off each little inflorescence, but each time I stopped and looked at the ‘clean’ pile, more aphids would come crawling out.
In the end, I decided that they must all be gone now, put them in the jug and poured on the boiling water; the rational part of me admits that there must have still been loads of bugs in there, but the rest of me doesn’t want to listen.
How icky do you want? Fair warning to all pet lovers, the following is not pleasant…
Okay. Here we go.
We live on six acres in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains in eastern California. It isn’t terribly remote but we have our fair share of wildlife (a neighborhood mountain lion, coyotes, raptors, snakes, etc.). We have lost a few animals over the past few years to the local environment and its denizens so it is not a terribly big surprise when one of our cats hasn’t been seen in a while…sad, but not surprising.
In any case, last month I mentioned to Mrs. Gaffer that I hadn’t seen our cat Cassandra in a couple of days and that I hoped she was okay. This was probably on a Tuesday or Wednesday. That Saturday, my boys (ages 2 and 4) ran in exclaiming “Daddy, Daddy, Holly (our dog) caught a gopher! Come look!” (I mean, what can you expect, they’re boys…they love dead stuff). So I go outside and see Holly chewing on something…
::cue dark foreboding music which gradually increases in volume as I approach our dog with boys in tow::
I get to where she is and look down…
::music reaching a crescendo now::
and the dog is chewing on Cassandra’s head :eek: :eek: :eek:.
So I tell the boys that it is just a gopher and make them go inside while I get a shovel (much to the chagrin of the dog).
