I have nothing to write about but my hatred of eggs. I detest the fuckers, always have.
As an ingredient, a binding substance, a goopy and essential precursor to cake it gets a pass but as something on a plate, on its own, it can do one.
If I want to gorge on chickenhead ejaculant I'll have me a spell on the DART with the after school crowd, clucking on apace about boys called Gav and bitches called 'that bitch Clare.'
However, culinarily speaking, make like a nice little waiter and substitute me in a grilled tomato or some such, or mushrooms, or even an extra sausage if you're still in denial about the death of the Lucky Leopard.
Cucumbers are crap but eggs, eggs are devil food.