Tag Archives: The Sticky Egg

Hello, and this…

The Egg has seen an influx of new visitors this week —

A very sticky welcome!

And to those of you who are fellow US citizens…


The music died

All the discussion of late around the Confederate flag brought the band Lynyrd Skynyrd to mind, since that flag is part of the band’s logo.

(I didn’t use that version here on The Sticky Egg because, um…no.)


That led us to talking about where we were when we learned about the plane crash that killed half of the band members.

[If you’re too young to a) know who Lynyrd Skynyrd is, or b) remember the plane crash, move along.]

I was in bed asleep. The phone rang — a corded phone, no less  — and I walked down to my mother’s bedroom to answer it. A good friend of my oldest brother was on the line, and he was crying. I may have been young, but I knew a call that late at night could only mean one thing…

Someone had died.

We woke up my brother, who came to the phone in a fog of sleep. We heard him say, “Oh no. Oh God. Oh no.” Then he hung up the phone and turned to go back to bed.  We stopped him, saying, “Wait — what happened?”

He said simply, “Lynyrd Skynyrd died.”

I’m not sure either my mother or I knew exactly what that meant, so we went on to bed.  When we questioned my brother the next morning, he barely remembered the phone call.

But it stuck in my memory, all these years — the day Lynyrd Skynyrd died.

Like flowers for chocolate

I did not inherit the chocolate lover’s gene.

But even I was inspired by this bit of food porn —

chocolate roses banana


I’d probably pull out the flowers and eat the banana first. But chocolate roses? Pretty darn adorable. And best of all, they’re —


You can read the easy-to-follow instructions here.

Treat your significant other.  Hell, treat yourself!  And if you do go to all that trouble, send me a picture.

I promise to sing your praises right here on The Egg!


Sticky celebration

The Sticky Egg is 5 years old today!

(All gifts accepted — cash, checks, gift cards, candy…especially candy.)

Thanks for sticking with me all these years!

The most unguarded of scrambled egg eaters

While The Sticky Egg is no doubt your favorite egg-y blog — thank you for that — chances are you prefer eggs cooked in a somewhat different style.

But what does your favorite egg prep say about you?

scrambled eggsAn eggs-ceptional amount.

MindLab International researched the psychology behind this consumer choice in a study conducted for the British Egg Industry Council. Here is what they found your egg choice says about you:

  • Poached egg-eaters — outgoing and happier than most.
  • Boiled egg-eaters — disorganized and at the greatest risk of getting divorced.
  • Fried egg fans — have a high sex drive (!!) and usually hail from the ‘skilled working class’ (so British, right?).
  • Scrambled eggs — preferred by people who are guarded and without children.
  • Omelettes  — are self-disciplined.

Strangely, the study didn’t say what a preference for The Sticky Egg says about you….

Brilliant?  Good looking?  I’d say that’s a pretty safe bet.

A cool grand

This is my 1,000th post on The Sticky Egg.

That’s 1,000 blog entries in 1,000 consecutive days.  No sick days.  No holidays.   No weekends.

As the Dowager Countess would say, “What is a weekend?”

I started the blog 1,000 days ago to give myself the opportunity to write for fun.  I added the daily deadline to make sure I actually did it…and that was very motivating.

At first.

Now it’s the folks who share their comments — and the readers brave enough to actually subscribe — who inspire me to come up with my brand of foolishness every day.

So, thanks for sticking with The Egg.  Hope to see you here for at least a thousand more!

Hidden gems

Fast food restaurants have been keeping secrets. Not posting their full menus.  Holding out.

But they can’t hide from CNN.

CNN busted them.  Shone a light.  Spread the word.  And now we can order some truly spectacular food items that still aren’t on the menu.

Won’t stop me.

I gots to have a Neapolitan milkshake — chocolate, vanilla and strawberry shake layered in the same cup.

McDonald’s, Burger King and In-N-Out have ’em…if you just ask.  And why wouldn’t you?

It’s sweet genius.

Or how about a big ol’ order of frings?  That’s half onion rings, half french fries, served in the same order.  Why choose if you don’t have to?  And isn’t frings way more fun to say?

Don’t answer.  We know it’s true.

And for my vegan family members — you know who you are — step right up to the counter at Fatburger and order the Hypocrite.  It’s a veggie burger with several strips of crispy bacon perched right on top.

Add a side of Sticky Eggs and you’ve got yourself a meal!

From the heart

you rock

Happy Valentine’s Day from The Sticky Egg!


Editor’s Note — If you’re not feeling it today, substitute heart of stone.
(It works both ways.)

Deja vu

The following post is a re-edit of a Sticky Egg blog entry dated November 5, 2009.  The names have been changed, but let’s face it…

No one is innocent here.

I’m sorry, Philadelphia Boston.  I didn’t mean to.

When I moved to New York City three five years ago, I had hoped being a sports team ‘good luck charm’ would help the Mets, but alas — the Yankees Giants won…again.

Even though my powers are extremely strong — and are becoming more legendary by the day– I’ve never had much control over them.

They first surfaced in Kansas City in 1992.  Mere weeks after I moved there, Joe Montana signed with the Chiefs.  Kansas City didn’t win a Super Bowl under Joe, but they were definitely post-season contenders.

I moved to Boston in 2000 and lived there for six years.  I think we all know the impact I had there.  Two World Series wins for the famously denied Boston Red Sox.  The Patriots win the Super Bowl not once, not twice, but three times.

But the minute I moved to New York City — we’re talking, I’d been in town just a couple of months — the New York Giants win the Super Bowl, defeating the New England Patriots.


My power is infinite and brutal and — with the Yankees’ World Series win just last night now that the Giants have handed the Patriots their second defeat — impossible to target.

I’m starting to wonder who’s behind my powers, and more importantly — what city is gonna pay me for them?

Chicago, I’m in the book.

Pie in the sky

Let them eat cake. — Marie Antoinette
Let them eat pie. — The Sticky Egg

I have never been a fan of cake.

For my birthday, I prefer pie.  Fruit pie.  (Lemon pie, to be picky and specific.) Sometimes I get one; often I don’t.

But then again, I don’t have a pie fairy like Willis Welch.

For the past 35 years, Willis has received a pecan pie at his Columbus, Ohio door every Christmas.  From whom he can not say, even after all this time.

This year’s pastry was accompanied by a note announcing the pie fairy’s retirement saying,  “I am a little too fat to fly anymore.”

While I’m sad this particular pie maker is grounded, I am inspired by his tradition.  We need more pie fairies in the world!  At birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, sick beds — you name it!  Life needs more pie in it.

Will you be my pie fairy?