I made some jambalaya tonight, as I was tired of eating wheat thins and violet crumbles for dinner. But, I tried one of the 'different' pork andouilles I got from the BR andouille and cracklin place I go, and when I started to saute it, it disintegrated and my kitchen began to quickly fill with the unmistakable noss of BABY SHIT. I mean to say it was as if I had gotten locked in a Mexican diaper pail (and I don't mean my truck bed this time) and someone was scooping out the shit with a melon-baller and making fritters. Needless to say I had to scoop it all into a ziplock and throw it away, wash the dutch oven (with soap, forgive me Tony) and quickly defrost some back-up andouille to make this happen (I always have a back-up andouille, because it sounds dirty and creepy to say to people). Luckily things came out okay and nobody got hurt, which is a tricky outcome when somebody slips me a baby-turd dinner sausage. That's like going over to the Cracker Barrel and replacing all their Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage with saturated, clotty tampons and expecting all the old people not to start pulling the antique farm equipment off the walls and scything the waitresses in half.
In other news, my new swordfighting gloves came today, although I dunno if I'll need them this week as I could very well be the only one to show up for practice again.