Wednesday 15 August 2007

KITCHEN MESS CALL-TO-ARMS
RANCID MILK THICK, CHUNKY, WET, & YELLOW

AMID THE ELATION of being finished with projects, Temple University student Chrissy Doughty brought her classmates down to earth with a stern call to arms against a messy environment.

The warning, issued Wednesday afternoon in the hostel kitchen, was aimed at students whom Doughty felt had been abusing the cooking facilities and leaving a mess behind.

"It's disgusting," Doughty said. "It's too messy. I normally keep things pretty clean, but this is disgusting."

She gestured to a large cast iron pot containing the slimy brown remnants of a traditional stew cooked by hostel employee "DJ Chill" and which he left out overnight to rot.

Computer lab tech and New Kids on the Block fan Darcy Caputo took Doughty's message to heart, and immediately began clearing the communal refrigerator of its vile contents.

"Who left all this to rot and fester?" Caputo asked as he pulled bottle after bottle of thick, rancid milk from the soggy bowels of the silver fridge.


Student Laura McKean-Peraza wrinkled her nose as she held up a bottle of milk that had expired on July 28th-- over two weeks ago.

Some milk had hardened and congealed; others had separated into curds and whey. One bottle of milk, described by a passerby as "botulistic" had swollen so that it could no longer stand up. Another had turned a repulsive shade of yellow.

"Who buys this milk, drinks a sip, and leaves it to sit for weeks?" Caputo cried.


"I don't drink milk," Doughty replied, "And this makes me sick. It's really disgusting."

Among the other items dragged out of the wet, moist depths of the fridge were a bag of soggy, wilted, brown salad greens; various pots of foul, drippy yogurt; a single slice of sweaty ham, and other unidentifiable scum-covered objects. But the most prevalent abandoned groceries were bottles of thick, glutinous milk, some with chunks.

Student Kyle Saadeh eyed the collection of drippy milk bottles and then looked over at Darcy.

"I'll give you $1,000 to chug all that," he told Darcy, nodding towards the stinking display.

"$1,500," Caputo replied, upping the ante.

There was a moment of silence as the pair stared at the rank mess, and they both shook their heads.

"I'll tell you one thing, though," Caputo noted. "It's got to be rich in calcium."