(UPDATE: Okay — HERE it is! This was up for a bit on Saturday night and then, um, somehow it ended up back in my drafts. I don’t know what I was thinking ……. it seems I also just randomly press buttons when I’m bored.)
It is Saturday night and My Beloved is working.
So I’m sitting here, all alone, eating eyeballs.
Some are blue. Some are green. Some are brown. Some are even purple, so you can blurt out willy-nilly between chews, “Take THAT, Liz Taylor! I am eating your precious purple eye!”
(I mean, if you want. Oh, yeah, hers are “violet,” I know. Blah, blah, blah. Is she even still alive??)
Seems the other day, some weird client of My Beloved’s brought him this bag of eyeballs as a …. I have no idea, really. A payment? A thank you? A threat? Was I not listening to this part of his story? Hm.
Anyhoo …. he brought home this bag of eyeballs — hard little balls of something, each wrapped in white foil, with ragged bloodshot lines streaking away from a shiny colored iris in the center.
He thrust the bag towards me. I gaped at these eyeballs rolling around on top of one another, staring at me, all disembodied and creepy and foily.
“Ew.”
“It’s candy of some kind,” he said.
“‘Candy of some kind’?” I echoed. “WHAT kind?”
“I dunno.”
“You didn’t taste one?”
“NO.”
“Are you going to?”
(Read: “Are you going to” for meeee so that I may witness your reaction and/or state of health when you’re through? This will help me gauge whether I will then eat an eyeball or not. Thaanks.)
“No.”
Drat!
He left the floppy bag of eyeballs on the counter. It sat there for a day or two. I would walk by it and fondle the eyeballs, rolling them until they were all lined up and staring at me, waiting for me to say something brilliant. Then, I’d crumple under the pressure and frantically turn them all around until I saw only white.
My Beloved did not eat them. I did not eat them.
Until tonight. Because I’m bored and because I had oatmeal for dinner and because you definitely need a dessert if you’ve had a damn bowl of oatmeal for dinner and because those eyeballs were really starting to FREAK me out, looking at me from their Ziploc perch on the counter. I could swear that sometimes, after I’ve already turned them to the whites, a couple of rogue eyeballs have been staring at me …. you know, later.
“So big deal. Why don’t you just throw them away, Tracey?”
Because …. it’s “candy of some kind,” people!! PLEASE PAY ATTENTION!!
So I grab myself a small bowl, carefully select blue and green and brown and purple. Two purples, actually. One for Liz, you know. Come over to the sofa and unwrap one, a blue one. My eye. And …..turns out, it is smooth, creamy chocolate, and then — ew! EW! What’s that oozing!? ACK! I knew it! I knew it! The eyeball of death!!
I try to disengage my teeth from it, but it’s so gooey ….. oh … and caramelly. Just caramel. Not death. Caramel. And I’m an idiot having a candy-induced panic attack.
So I take revenge on my bowl of eyeballs and eat them all, smushing their white foil wrappers into tight little balls that I use for target practice with the trash can.
Eh. I’ll pick ’em up later.
🙂
Several years ago, I bought a couple bags of those eyeballs for the annual Hallowe’en candy give-out. It was quite interesting to watch – the strongest (positive) reactions I got were from several small girls, mostly dressed as princesses and such.
They were all “Oh! Cool! Eyeball candy!”
hahahahahaha.
I know how you feel, Tracey, I just welcomed a co-blogger myself, and my site seems to resent it – it plays horrible tricks on his formatting. The Interweb is slowly evolving a collective consciousness like bad Star Trek come true.
But you eat eyeballs. That’s hardcore. Even Pai Mei didn’t eat them after he plucked them.
Well, they’re WAAY better than fish heads. Too bad he didn’t know that. 😉
I’m just so glad that I wasn’t imagining that you’d posted this. I thought that maybe, somehow, my late night, internet-addled brain might have concocted something.
Whew.
Cullen — Are you saying I have an internet-addled brain?? 😉
I cannot speak of, or on behalf of, your brain. Mine, on the other hand, is well addled.
Insert evil laugh here…*bwah hah hah hah*
Someone eating halloween candy a bit early?
He left the floppy bag of eyeballs on the counter. It sat there for a day or two. I would walk by it and fondle the eyeballs, rolling them until they were all lined up and staring at me, waiting for me to say something brilliant. Then, I’d crumple under the pressure and frantically turn them all around until I saw only white.
LOL. Genius.