Eske Esquire wrote:
The most popular threads right now are ones where the elder statesmen talk about food that they like.
So I'm driving home from work through the Illinois hinterlands and I see a gravel drive off the main route with a sign reading "Brown Eggs For Sale". One of the nice things about where I live is an abundance of fresh food throughout the warm seasons and I work out in the farmland with a great butcher shop near by, country stores, etc. We've been enjoying some great meals this summer. Anyway, I think "Hey, fresh eggs sound good" and turn in. And drive some long twisting gravel route by a collapsed barn and a sheet steel barn with arrows spray painted on it, past some old woman tending to a few flats of burnt out annual flowers, between some large chicken-wire fenced in pens proclaiming "See our animals!" in case you wanted to see a despondent goat standing in a mud pit and finally reach the store. Which was a small room attached to a closed up gift shop and manned by an elderly Mexican gnome. I'm not sure if he was a tallish midget or a short, round guy with non-proportional limbs. There were no eggs, only some over priced and wilted vegetables so I quickly got back in my car and drove out past a graveyard of no less than twenty rusted out ice cream trucks all arranged in a group.
I've no idea where my eggs were but that place was one goat-girl hybrid and a sundown away from one **** of an X-Files episode.
On the plus side, I found that there's poultry farm more or less en route on my way home that sells fresh & frozen birds. I'mmagonna eat me some chicken.