Some fell on the floor. Those were the lucky ones, I suppose.
A greasy, lumpy, gnarled hand plunges into the bowl like a terraforming excavator, displacing and dispossessing all manner of food particles. No warning and without delay. Fingers twitch to and fro, rapaciously seeking, greedily clutching. With no means of escape, the morsels remain helpless as kith and kin unwillingly depart.
The hand, indecent and unclean.
It grasps the morsels tighter and tighter in its crude and vulgar form. Shrieking, the detained fracture and smear across the grooved palmar surface. Terror befalls the wounded as the hand begins its approach towards tooth and tongue.
But their plight is quieted by further compression. Crumbs and broken shards spill from the sides of the hand, showering the survivors with fallen brothers and sisters and comrades. And so, too, are the surviving morsels overcome with terror.
“How are the mighty fallen in the midst of battle! O [Chipotle], thou wast slain in thine high places.”
Okay. So, I certainly don’t intend for this post to be a lamentation or an elegy for a lost friend. In fact, I’m not even going to express woe of any kind. Rather, I intend to express something approaching the opposite for the company that reeks of self-righteousness. Let’s not call my expressions those of joy, eh?
I’ll start with the chipotle pepper. Basically, it’s just a jalapeño. Just ripened, red jalapeños that are dehydrated and smoked (which further dehydrates them) for several hours to several days. Of the two main types of chipotles, moritas and mecos, the former is the most commonly used in the United States. Moritas are produced primarily in the state of Chihuahua, located in the northern portion of Mexico which shares a border with New Mexico and Texas. Thus, it is no surprise that chipotles found their way into the United States. However, it has become inescapable. Rife in many Mexican derived cuisines (e.g. Mexican-American and Tex-Mex), the chipotle pepper has even found itself weaved into some unlikely (and ostensibly sacrilegious) edible forms. Who thought chipotle cookies were a good idea?
Perhaps it is peculiar that one uses spare moments to photograph rubber ducks. Some may say it is puerile. However, few could deny the majestic quality of the simple bath toy. The vacant eyes, the glossy countenance, the smooth texture. The beak. Simultaneously a weapon and a plaything, no childhood could be said to have indeed been lived without a rubber duck.
Okay, clearly an exaggeration.
Some search for Pokemon. I seek rubber ducks in their natural habitats. Let’s start with these two below. Enjoy!