This is my fridge.
It looks ok from the outside. A few magnets, a postmark from Vilnius, nephew art, and a Christmas card from 2020.
Nothing remarkable.
Thanks to Hive it's not covered with crow photos that I put up to show off to nobody but my alone lonely self in my tiny apartment.
But...
As we all know, it's not about what's outside, but what's inside that counts.
This is the inside of my fridge.
This is the inside of the crazy crow lady artist scatterbrain fridge.
For reals.
I didn't just reach in there and jumble everything up to impress you.
Look!
Look at how messy it is.
Aren't you proud of me?
Look at this container of salsa.
I think I was saving that jalapeño for something I was gonna cook, but I forget what. Anyways, I didn't make that thing I forgot to make, so I'll toss this out.
Look at this can of cat food.
She didn't like it then, but maybe she'll like it now that it's fermented for a couple months.
What's that, baby? You don't think I should give the cat kim chi paté?
Ok.
Out it goes.
I think these are egg whites.
I made something that needed more yolk than egg. Maybe crow food. Maybe custard. Some time last year. Like, real last year, not just December 31st. I remember I saved this because I wanted to make meringues.
The jar is pretty, but...
I don't want to open a jar of old eggs.
Bye-bye, jar.
Anybody want some chili?
Are you sure?
It's CRUNCHY.
Last call for crunchy chili...
...
Whoa. Is that fungus growing on my fungus??
Sprouts are supposed to be brown, right?
And watery.
Nice fresh brown watery sprouts.
Forgot I had these.
Gonna use these on my sandwich tomorrow.
They say cheese gets better with age.
Let's check the date.
Perfect!
I'll put this on my sandwich, too.
Lunch tomorrow is gonna be awesome.
WTF is this?
Oh, wait, I remember. It's got chanterelles in it from when I was teaching Pilot how to find mushrooms last fall. I don't know why I used chanterelles. I should really be teaching him to sniff out the psylocibins.
Oh, hey, baby.
What's up.
This is just expired and boring.
Toss it.
Here's some left over pork belly.
I was gonna chop it up and fry it and put it in my oatmeal tomorrow. It's not that old, is it? I just bought it... when did I buy it?
WhenthefuckdidIbuyit.
Fuck.
Nevermind.
Have a nice life in the landfill, you fat slab.
Well we got the middle shelf cleared out.
Find baby.
I'm not going to tell you what's in that pump bottle because if the board found out what my definition of a sanitary storage space is I might lose my license.
I'll keep that sentence vague.
What's on the top shelf?
Crow food.
Crow food.
Dog food, cat food (still fresh, I promise).
WTF is this?
Seriously, why did I keep this.
Did it used to be fluffy?
Was it salad?
Empty jar of cheese dip. Nice.
My therapist might say this means I have trouble letting go.
I just bought that pho yesterday, baby.
And I'm going to eat the rest tonight.
No, you can't swim in it.
Peppers keep forever.
But I've already kept these forever and still haven't used them.
Baby, your crotch is gonna be burning in a second.
Oh, yeah, this stuff.
My second time buying it. I really wanted to like it. Wanted to do the nondairy thing, cuz dairy farms are bad for the environment and dairy makes me bumpy.
But it's gross.
Let's see if it's got any cool mold growing inside.
Oh.
Told you those peppers burned.
Top shelf done.
Find baby.
Let's ignore the bottom shelf a bit longer and move on to the door.
This is the door of my fridge.
It's not too bad, actually. All the expired stuff is sealed up nice and tight.
I keep a jar of coffee beans in the fridge to help minimize odors.
This is soooo not how I want to go.
I think I wore the beans out.
Well that was easy.
That's hummingbird food in the grapefruit juice jug. Not a container of nothing.
Looks like it's time for THE BOTTOM SHELF.
I don't want to clean the bottom shelf.
It's not that bad, though.
Everything there is fresh except what's in the crockpot. That long stick thing is lemongrass and don't get any ideas about the zucchini.
But that crockpot, man.
Dread.
This shit is gross, too.
Damn bottom shelves catching all the drippins.
Also not how I want to go.
ARE YOU READY FOR THE CROCKPOT?
.
.
.
ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE READY FOR THE CROCKPOT?
.
.
.
SURE YOU'RE SURE?
.
.
.
IF THE SUSPENSE DOESN'T KILL YOU, THE SMELL WILL.
.
.
.
Here you go!
Slow-cooked beef stew with sweet potato, kale, shitake, cherry tomatoes, pork fat, and pinot noir.
Slow cooked for six hours.
Slow cooked until everything was tender and succulent and savory and bomb.
Slowly gotten sick of after a week of eating it.
Slowly left to rot in the hell that is my fridge.
I wish you guys could smell this.
It's a very... interesting aroma.
I think it's getting me high.
I wonder what that nice art guy that flirted with me last week would think if he saw this.
Bottom shelf cleared.
Find baby.
Trash can full.
Find baby.
Looks like it's time to bust out the soap and start scrub--
What's that, baby?
The crisper?
No, there's nothing in there. We don't use the crisper because whenever we we put food in there we forget and then its genes get modified into mold monster DNA.
Seriously, there's nothing in there.
I said there's nothing---
OMG
FOR REALS??!!
Did we just get tipped by the garbage goblins?
Getchur hands off my money, baby!
This is so rad!
I've never made money off cleaning out my fridge before.
Guess there's a first time for everything.
Thanks for all your help, guys.
I wouldn't couldn't have done it without you.
P.S. Don't forget to find baby.
The End
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