Ickysicky Chicken Gunk

Hey, y'all wanna hear about my epiphany of the day?! (That was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but if you answered no, then you can stop reading right here and go do something else that will (probably) be more productive than reading my dumb blog.  If you answered yes, well then-- READ ON, friends!)

WELL.  This past week (okay, week and a half), I've been pretty darn sick.  First it was just a cold, then a worse cold, then pink eye, and then today I went and got tested for strep-- because, with this streak of bad luck, I figured hey, why not add one more to the list!  (If any of you curious'uns are wondering, I don't have strep, but I do have some thyroid problem, messing with my bodayyy and blahblah boring mumbojumbo whatever.)  There were murmurs from friends and (ahem, parents) that I was probably catching all this junk from eating stuff out of the trash and I immediately dismissed it because we've all seen how clean trash cans are and how could something so wonderful be so disastrous, etc, etc.  But then, I got to thinking and... you know, they just might be right.  Yikes.

Anyway, next subject: DINING HALLS.  First of all, they're great.  I'm their biggest fan.  Unlimited food and friendly staff at your beck and call to make something deliciously fried just for you?!  Yeah, they're actually kind of too good to be true.  But there's one aspect that gets my bubbles rumbling (or whatever that saying is)-- since there's so much food and so much choice, people are more liberal in the size of the portions they throw away.  "Oh, these falafels are good, but that Asian stir fry looks like an 8 out of 10, so fuck the falafels."  And then a whole plate of food is wasted.  It's a sad, sad state of affairs.  

Tonight's notable waste of the century was a perfectly good caesar salad (minus that ickysicky chicken gunk), so why the heck didn't it get eaten?!  Life's mysteries, I'm tellin' ya!

Just rest your eyes upon that wasted meal.  Oh, the horror!  The inhumanity!

Below is a picture of the perpetrator (She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, lest she inflict doom and bad karma upon me for posting such an embarrassing picture).  There she is, looking all smug and triumphant because she has the power and audacity to throw away whatever her cruel heart desires.  And to that I say, "Begone, evil wench.  Do your evil deeds elsewhere-- mayhaps in Africa where the wee babes need their fair share of cheesy lettuce and ickysicky chicken gunk!"  

(Note: I didn't really say that to She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  In fact, I still really like her even though she sometimes throws away food.)

(Note #2: Don't be intimidated to throw food away in front of me-- I'll either dig it back out and find someone to eat it, or just give you a chastising look.  This blog makes me sound way more judgey than I actually am.  No biggie.)