The Rotten Fridge

Well, we have a the Rotten fridge. You know, that one fridge that always rottens stuff that everyone has I assume. Welcome the "Dammit" tag.

We didn't know we had a the Rotten fridge. Well, we did, but we didn't. We refused. J'Accuse, I screamed this morning.


It all started last night. I slept till noon, and I was SO tired that I fell asleep halfway through Walker, Texas Ranger. I am watching it right now though, he is on alot it seems. I got up today at 3 AM, effectively getting 4.5 hours of sleep.

What am I to do with this gain of 9 hours, I ask myself. I know! I respond excitedly.
I know! I echoed a second time. Okay, tell me, I says. Well, I began. I was always annoyed at how I had to warm to a subject. It was a minor inconvenience, but I wish I would just be straight sometimes.

Seeing's how I have an extra 9 hours...I paused and looked at myself. I could tell I was annoying me, so I milked it for all it's worth.


And that gives me time to marinade something...

Just tell me, I thought. If we're gonna marinade something, we have to do it soon. Why not make that dish Dad has been wanting.

Which dish is that, I asked myself. Well, you remember, the one he was gonna make on Saturday I thought? Oh, right, that one. Fried chicken? Yeah! We could soak it in buttermilk! Okay, I told me. We'll do that. Sold! I exclaimed, and thrust out my hand, as in sealing a business deal. I was always one for dramatics, and, though it doesn't always amuse me, I shook my hand.


On to business, I thought. My first order of business is to research. That took a few minutes, I just found Alton's recipe. His recipes are the best in everdom. Then I went to the chicken! The chicken we got about three days ago.

Three days. Twelve pounds of chicken. One package of drumsticks, one package of thighs, and one package of chicken breast. The trinity of chicken. Backs, spines, wings, they are useless.

They smell funny, I thought. That's silly, said I. We just got these three days ago.

Sure enough however, they were rotten. All twelve pounds. I then set out to discover the cause, in true Vanny Oliver fashion.


Several days ago, I observed that the sparkling waters in the Rotten fridge were not cold. Very peculiar. So, I got the thermometer. I opened a sparkling water, and took a sip. Sure enough, it was hotter than frozen coffee! So, I stuck the thermometer into the water. Several minutes later, I had my answer. 50 degrees. As you may know, a refrigerator should damn well be 40 degrees, or else, and I mean NOW.

So that's why that fridge is the rotten fridge. Mystery solved, thanks to, KEV the DESTROYER! The dogs have a feast of twelve pounds of rotting chicken. I took out two packages of frozen chicken breast, and am going to make fried chicken anyways. Words can't keep me down.

Y'know, it's okay that it's the rotten fridge though. We have one entire refrigerator, the rotten fridge, dedicated to some oil, about three cups of lard, three bottles of wine, two stacks of bones (about 5 pounds), and some meat loaf. The freezer part has pie crusts and baking soda, and frozen dry dog food. Get it? Frozen dry, freeze dried.

Yesterday I made 10 pounds of meat loaf. Cool huh? Yeah no. It turned out bad. I won't put water next time. Update on the fried chicken later tonight. I sharpened my 8" chefs knife again, man that thing is sharp. I just love it.


But curses. Damn that fridge. Damn it to the PITS!!!1oneoen