Excerpts from the journals of Dr. Nathaniel
Gregor Leevinski - mad scientist, affable slob.
Day 138
My study on the exciting potential of spoiled
milk as a new, world-changing biofuel has come to an end. It is with a sad
heart that I must confess my failure, and it is with a gas tank full of chunky
sour cream that I wish I had tested on animals first. I only hope that my
research can go on to inspire other scientists to try every substance on the
planet one by one until we find a new and renewable energy source. For example,
I hear that researchers in Switzerland are making great strides in studying
ferret secretions.
Picture taken right before they were jammed inside the gas tank of an F-150.
Although I have given up hope for a biofuel, I
plan on continuing my research and experiments on the effects of time on milk.
I started all this because I was too lazy to throw away my expired jugs, and,
frankly, I'm not feeling any friskier. I'm now hoping for a new type of cheese
or possibly a paint remover.
Day 142
The contents of the jugs have all separated into
a yellowy liquid with hunks of gelatinous, white solids swimming around. It
looks oddly similar to the results of my previous study, "The Effects of
Urine on Mouse Buoyancy". I thought the semi-solid might make for a good
sandwich spread, so, hoping for a tastier alternative to mayonnaise, I
slathered some on a sandwich. It was the worst thing I'd ever eaten, except for
mayonnaise. At first I considered this a success, but my super-refined palate corrupted
my data, and if I wanted to mass market this spread as "Milk of Mayonesia"
I needed to find out what the general public thought. I made a sandwich tray
with my new spread and brought it to my friend's party for testing. I didn't
tell anyone of the change as to not sway their judgment, and I asked them what
they thought of the sandwich as they took their first bite. It was hard to tell
what their gurgling meant, and I eagerly await the day when they get out of the
hospital so I can clarify their response and politely ask them to drop their many,
many lawsuits.
Day 157
I have found a new direction in my research. The
gallon of milk that expired April 5th has taken on a bloated and frightening
shape. This can only be due to a gaseous buildup, probably of that cow methane
I hear so much about. I'm afraid to open the jug myself, but I have dreams of
harnessing and utilizing the heinous gas as an agent of bio warfare. I've got
calls in to some interested countries, mostly ones we are technically at war
with. To be fair, I did give the US right of first refusal.
They'll see. They'll all see. BWAHAHAHA!
Day 164
This morning I noticed that one of the jugs had
taken on an orangish hue and a citrus scent. Confused by this strange occurrence,
I tested the pH balance and came to a stunning conclusion - that wasn't a jug of milk at all! Apparently the only thing living in my fridge that is grosser than my
gallons of milk is my roommate's orange juice. It had globules of slimy mold
floating around in it. Seriously, it looked like a gallon of egg drop soup.
Sure, I have three gallons of milk old enough to start attending pre-school,
but orange juice? I mean, even I've got standards. If only being a mad
scientist paid enough to get my own apartment...
Mmmmmm......pulp!
Day 180
I've reached the end of my rope. I can't find a
single use for these gallons of clotted milk, and I've tried almost everything.
It makes for a terrible denture adhesive, according to those surprisingly rude
folks at the senior citizen home. It actually was a pretty effective hair gel,
but I don't think people would buy a product with the advertised side effects
of "overnight alopecia and scalp lesions". There's only one thing
left to try. I didn't want to do this, but...
*******************************************************************************************************
I awoke feeling groggy on the kitchen floor. Zach
was standing over me.
"Dude, wake up."
"What? Oh man, I had the strangest
dream," I said as I stood up and held my throbbing head. "I was a
crazy scientist studying milk that had expired almost 6 months ago. Who would
have that in their fridge? Hahaha! I mean, half a year! Isn't that weird?"
Zach stroked his thick, manly beard and squinted
his eyes.
"You would."
Confused, I turned around and beheld my three
gallons of milk and Zach's gallon of orange juice.
"We were cleaning our kitchen and you opened
that disgusting milk jug. You must have inhaled too many fumes."
Sheepishly, I gathered the jugs and put them in a
trash bag, and we made the grueling, exhausting, and possibly 50 yard trip to
our apartment's garbage bin. Dr. Leevinski would have been proud.
"I've learned a valuable lesson here,
Zach."
Zach squinted his eyes again, his beard bristling
in the wind.
"And what is that? Being lazy isn't a
rewarding way to live, and that with just a little more effort our place can be
kept in compliance with at least the health code regulations enforced by hot
dog carts?"
"Heavens no!" I chuckled, jealous of
his beard. "I should start buying half gallons."
Long and ridiculous story short - we cleaned our kitchen.
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