Gross!
24 June 2006 at 8:36 pm

I have done something horrible. I'm having a hard time admitting it even to myself, so you can imagine the trouble I'm having putting the knowledge out there for ones of people to see it.

I don't even know where to begin.

I was not always a very tidy person, but recently, I have become fairly fastidious in keeping a nice house. Our laundry never overflows, and clean clothes go where clean clothes should go. No, not the floor, you scoundrel, the dresser or the closet. I throw out food that is most likely bad. Even if there's just a little bit of mold on the cheese, years past would find me cutting off the chunk of mold and happily munching on the rest. This is no more. I can afford to buy new cheese.

Ok, so.

I just ate a half a sandwich. On moldy bread.

Now, obviously, I did not know it was moldy until after I had eaten half of it. It did not taste any different. It wasn't like the time I poured myself a nice bowl of cereal, shoved a heaping spoonful into my mouth and tasted something really strange, figured it was just that bite, took another one, and then had my mom say, "Honey, there are ants in this cereal." It tasted like a delicious turkey sandwich. The moldy sandwich. Not the ant-ridden cereal.

I usually check all carbs for mold before I put them in my mouth, even bread that I just bought. You never know. This bread was probably a week old, but well-kept, so I didn't examine the loaf this time ... until I noticed the especially burnt part of the toasted bread as I picked up the second half to consume it as voraciously as I did the first. I thought it was odd to find two perfect little circles of burnt goodness on the sides of the toast. It wasn't odd. It was MOLD.

I ATE MOLDY TOAST.

Do I throw it up? Do I assume the toaster killed the harmful effect of the spores? Do I hope that the mold that grows on bread is a delicacy somewhere in God's green earth? I'm at a loss here, people.

Damn you, Milton's Buttermilk Bread and your lack of cancer-causing preservatives. Damn you to HELL.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.