IT'S GREEN AND THERE ARE THINGS

Sometimes the internet is a horrid place. Recently it seemed to suggest that I would do well if I purchased a bulk bucket of mealworms and cooked it up, presumably not all at once, in an Analon X Hybrid 12" Non-Stick Skillet, or a Farberware Style 6 Quart Nonstick Stockpot with Tempered Glass Lid, which is both Dishwasher Safe and Oven Safe.

Possibly a Griswold No 6 Large Block Flat Bottom Skillet.

Some benighted influencer has probably done that.

Dude! I don't eat breakfast. Okay?

Yes, I know it's a prime ingredient in a high-protein shake which will help me lose weight. Sounds yummy and downright Southern. When cooked, indistinguishable from grits.
And goes great glopped over sliced avocado on toast.

All-natural. Non GMO.

No.

I did indeed purchase a new one quart Stainless Steel Farberware saucepan recently, which arrived in two days. So I can understand the algorithm in a fit of utter batshittery deciding that I was in the market for a full batterie de cuisine. The algorithm is berserkly obsessed, poor dear. But mealworms? Big bucket o'mealworms? I don't even have a lizard.

There are no skittery little clawed feet here.

They wouldn't survive a minute. There are things. In the night.


In addition to the weird sounds coming from both bedchambers. Small, animalian, conspiratorial. Creatures that wish to exploit or wallop other creatures.
All of them unique individuals. Little anarchists.


The less said about the horrid green nunnery soup, the better.
We shall not replace it with mealworm étouffée.
Un jambalaya de ténébrion meunier.


Ténébrion Meunier Meunière.




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