Today, Bob was MURDERED.
Hi, this is a guest post from Nooboy, to report on the purging of Nooblet's yeast, better known as Bob.
Today I arrived at home at 8:00pm, having just finished my late lecture at Uni, and I found myself looking at the kitchen sensing something amiss. On the kitchen bench a new void now exists, which can only be described as the missing elephant in the room. I look around and I see Bob's home upturned on the sink.
'Bob asked for it' Nooblet said as she entered the room.
'Bob asked for what?'
'He was bad'
What Nooblet meant by 'bad' (curse her and her 'woman talk') was that Bob had a number of issues:
1. He looked terrible, much like the ugly kid in kindergarten (you dont know why but all you can say is that they must have had a terrible upbringing) - but according to Nooblet he did not look that bad
2. Bob had a terrible stench, he simply 'smelt wrong' (quote from Nooblet)
3. Bob stank so bad Nooblet allegedly wanted to spew
So Nooblet poured Bob down the drain and much like the purging of our childhood clown fish friend, Bob went to where all bad thrush... I mean yeast, go: the sewer. Before the water in the sink could settle, Nooblet whipped out two more containers, methodically measuring equal amounts of flour and water into two new batches of sourdough yeast (much like the equation: lost pet + quick replacement = less tears). Yet to be named, they now sit on their high horse (shelf), staring down on all other lowly yeast and the sink, the scene of the crime. They act innocent on their assigned shelf like tweedle dum and tweedle dee, they are smug twins which live only to eat. Little do they know that they will soon end up in my stomach as light fluffy sourdough bread.
I Love my bread