To the people (possibly neighbours) who egged me and my friend outside my apartment the other night (not Halloween): How old are you? Seriously. Because I’m assuming by the fact that you EGGED us that you’re only about nine years old and I’d really like to come to your classroom and punch you in the face. —Egg-Head

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34 Comments

  1. eggs are magical. bennies, pickled, omeletes, cakes, meringues and finally the scotch egg. i haven’t had one of those in a long time

  2. I wonder if this happened on the Darkside. I some some egg shrapnel on the sidewalk near Sullivan’s Pond this morning. And I played tourist guide to very nice family from Britain on the ferry. >: )

  3. Creme brulee is one of mine. I get fat thinking about them yummy desserts.

    I think people need real entertainment nowadays, like we used to when we were kids. I used to throw plums from a rooftop onto a paved parking lot and got a chuckle out of the sound they made when they landed hard on a car roof. My husband made an arrow out of bicycle wheel spokes and shot his neighbour’s chickens (they attacked him first, of course). But we never attacked PEOPLE with objects. That’s just not safe. With the advancement of entertainment gadgets, we can now safely do that in the virtual world. Over and over and over and…over.

  4. The eggs you eat are not abortions. They have not been fertilized. They’re more like periods.

    Anyways, if it was around Morris Street, then they tried to get me about a week or two ago. They missed. I didn’t see them.

  5. The Diva got me up @ 6:00 and is now nestled comfortably on the spare bed in the computer room. I’m making a big pot of spaghetti sauce with sweet Italian sausage and debating doing a grocery run or a Frappuchino sortie. Both need to be done today – priority is the vexing question. How is Corrie?

  6. i managed to watch it on friday and i caught up on-line corrie.net is very useful. gorgeous morning the corbies are hanging out in the sun and we are going to brunch with the family

  7. The larder is now replenished and I’m psyched for a leisurely afternoon of nowt. Sounds like youse guyz are well on the way to a terrific Sunday. Have fun >: ) RAWK!

  8. hey hugo. we had brunch at estia it was loverly, excellent service. the bear and the bro are moving furniture for my folks and i’m going to watch “death at a funeral” the british one not the american shite

  9. The british one is such a hoot – americans just can’t leave well enough alone. We did a leisurely brunch at home, I’m happy to say I’ve perfected poached eggs. Mmm… eggs benny is so delish.

  10. i fell asleep last night so watched the rest today, very funny, not too long. i had eggs florentine yummy^^

  11. hey hey it’s rosie and riley…correct? it’s the sugar part on the bottom that’s tricky. caramel is hurty^^

  12. Yes PG that IS the elder statesman himself (he demanded equal face-time). i used to make breakfast for my nieces and nephews. They all liked eggs, toast and honey…. which in Aunty Black Rose’s world became ‘unfertilized chicken abortions and bee-barf’. Aunty BR was no longer asked to make breakfast!

  13. Awww, I’ve missed you guys too. I’ve been spending time with the New Guy and I couldn’t remember my Coast password… so, what’d I miss?

  14. a new guy eh? who is this young man? does he go to a good church? *cackle* the usual around here. tho the post that neverends is quite a larf. food talk too

  15. You let people egg you? If someone throws eggs I’m throwing rocks back. Like when those kids in a minivan tried to waterballoon me years ago and I threw a rock at them as hard as I could. Holy shit people stand up for yourself!

  16. I was egged by Sullivan’s Pond a couple of months ago. It happened during a flurry of drive-by shootings in certain of our less toney enclaves and as one regular pointed out “An egging seems almost quaint these days”. It happened fast, shell fragments on my pant leg and a fist pumping out the window of a car that was round the bend before I realized what had happened. Since then, I always have a glass bottle of something heavy in my right hand on the walk home. I may need to wash my clothes but Chad & Jeremy are going to have hell’s own time explaining the jar of sauerkraut in the back window of Daddy’s Lexus.

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