Monday, October 3, 2011

The Effects of Time on Milk - A Scholarly Discourse


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.



No comments:

Post a Comment