Corn! Rich! Lucious! Nauseating Corn!

by Purple Wyrm on September 3, 2002

I need to buy corn things.

Not things made of corn, those, you know, corn cob holder things, that you stick into the ends of a corn cob so you can eat it without burning your hands. Corn things. I need to buy some.

I did have four when I moved in here, but since they’re fundamentaly just cheap plastic (moulded into very droll corn cob shapes, so you don’t get confused over what they’re for) cast around a couple of galvanised nails, they tend to break fairly easily, and I’m down to two.

Now this is of course enough to work with (unless I decide to eat more than one cob at once which would require more than two arms and is hence biologically unlikely), but it raises a problem in that I tend to only do the washing up every three days or so (unless people are coming around, but hey, how much does that happen?). So if I want to have corn on a nightly basis (and who doesn’t!) I have to find the ones I used the night before, and wash them. Which is a pain frankly. So I need some more.

I stopped into the supermarket at Subi on the way home to look for some, but couldn’t find any. This seems odd to me. True, I didn’t have a lot of time to search before my train came, but you wouldn’t think they’d be that hard to spot. I mean they’re usually bright yellow for a start. I could have asked I suppose, but the infrequent staff wandering the aisles possess a very intimidating air of sullen belligerance. Combined with the greenish lighting they rather resemble trolls, and I’m not messing with any troll carrying a pricing gun. I might end up reduced for quick sale.

In other news I happened to catch the premiere of Band of Brothers last night (when did the rest of the world see that, like last year?). Pretty good I thought, the airborne scenes over Normandy were bloody terrifying! But there was one sour note – David Schwimmer. I don’t care what kind of uniform you put him in, I don’t care what you do with his hair, I don’t care how much he yells at the recruits, and I don’t care how much of a bastard he’s being, David Schwimmer is Ross. Case closed. It was hilarious! He was screaming invective at the troops as they clambered up a hill, and any minute I expected him to wail out “We were on a BREAK!!”. I suppose watching Friends half an hour before didn’t help, but still 🙂

I’m gonna shut up now. My corn is ready.

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