The Devil’s in the Eggs

It’s a jump to the left
Then a step to the right
Put your hands on your hips
And bring your knees in tight
But it’s the pelvic thrust
That really drives you insane

Let’s do the time-warp again
Let’s do the time-warp again


Deviled eggs have recently become my passion.  When I say they’re my passion, I don’t mean anything that dictionary.com has to say about the word.  I was going to put a definition in here and then make a quip about it, but apparently that idea is lost on the internet.
Oh well.
Anyways, I really and truly love deviled eggs.  There may or may not soon be an altar in my room built to them.  I never enjoyed them until about three weeks ago when my friend Michelle made them for a cookout.
I am hooked.  I am egg-locked.  I am…well…I would probably have a sexual relationship with deviled eggs if they were humanoids.

Son of a bitch.

So I made some tonight to keep in the fridge.  Ever since I discovered them there have been some in my fridge.  I ate the last for breakfast this morning and needed more.  So what happens when I make them tonight?

That’s right.

You guessed it.

The filling was ev-er-y-where. My clothing, hair, counters, floor, wine glasses.  Nothing was safe.

Hmm.  Wine glasses.  I need some wine.

Excuse me.

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19 thoughts on “The Devil’s in the Eggs

  1. sort of speechless over here. I have the urge to make deviled eggs, suddenly. Think I’ll just go to bed, though.

  2. grannyandthebaldguy says:

    Now I am craving deviled eggs. Yum.

  3. ordinarybutloud says:

    You know, (pirates), I love omelets, love them, even love them at The Egg & I, where they’re called “omelettes,” inexplicably, but I can’t do deviled eggs. Can’t. My pirates (children), on the other hand, *adore* them.

  4. madhousewife says:

    I like deviled eggs. While my husband and I were on vacation we went into a shop that sold pickled quail eggs in a jar. We were curious, but we weren’t sure we wanted to risk it. The clerk said they tasted kind of like deviled eggs, but I wasn’t sure I trusted her. We did not buy the pickled quail eggs, so I guess we’ll never know now.

This is where the cool people talk about Pirates.

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