Work leftovers

Last week our office was blessed with these wonderful praline cookies, you should be able to sense the sarcasm in the word wonderful here, that sat around untouched in the kitchen on my floor all week long. Now for anything to last more than a day is crazy unless it arrives at 4:30pm on Friday. These sorry ass cookies from Louisiana taste like they were made when the French sold the territory west of the Mississippi to us Americans some 200 years ago. That's how nasty they are. For those that know me personally, they have to be that fucking bad for me not to eat more than a couple of them.

I painfully ate two of them last week and felt like my teeth were going to fall out. I warned everyone to avoid them. My silly co-worker thinks it's hilarious to hide them in various spots around or on my desk. I look at him with a fair amount of scorn and smirkitude. I've been called a human garbage disposal, meaning if it has sugar... I will usually eat it. These things are the exception. I took a picture of one so you will know to avoid them if you ever see these vile pieces of crap in your life. (too lazy to upload photo right now though.)

My co-workers will eat a pizza with meat topping that sat out all night. Yes, for those of you that worked in the food service... that means the meat is definitely in the Danger Zone. If my co-workers will devour stale leftover night pizza, but won't eat these cookies, you know they are wretched. How many more adjectives can Egan use to describe these nasty ass cookies? I think I am stopping now. Done venting about these foul excuse for sweets. Hey, I don't have to eat them I guess. I will just go back to munching on my Chica Scouts cookies, a yummy indulgence they are this week. Four bucks a box for the Girl Scout cookies seems like a steal compared to the free praline pucks.