One of my college roommates was eccentric. Don’t get me wrong; he was a good guy. But we still tell stories about his distinctive behavior.
We ate a lot of spaghetti back then, and he used to make meat sauce in a unique manner. He’d form the hamburger into a huge patty at the bottom of the skillet, and as it fried, he’s insert pieces of onion by poking them into the meat with his finger. Maximum flavor enhancement, in his mind.
He also had a habit of making up slightly different names for everything.
“Gawd,” he’d say, “bunions are great in humbuggers. They’re even better than green peckers!”
Who can argue with that?
Speaking of spaghetti, he lived in our fraternity house one summer, back when there was a single, unlocked refrigerator in the kitchen. Instead of storing his leftover spaghetti in there and someone else eating it, he simply put the bowl in the closet of his room.
The next day, he pulled it out and started eating it.
“Gawd, do you want some?” he asked the horrified onlookers. “It’s warm!”
To my knowledge, though, he didn’t contract botulism. Must’ve had something to do with the “bunions.”
Associated listening: “Little Feat” by Little Feat (1971)