This Poached Egg Hack Will Totally Ruin Your Marriage!
Poaching eggs is difficult, and so is marriage. They’re both hard to keep together. Any time you poach an egg, it could end up a runny, drippy mess, just like my husband Sean’s penis. Hi, Sean! Your shower technique is bad and your genitals are disgusting. Anyway, here’s a poached egg hack that will totally ruin your terrible marriage:
First, let me dispel some poaching myths. Despite what some lifestyle bloggers may tell you, the microwave is not useful for poaching eggs (it’s also hard to return if it was on your wedding registry). If you use the microwave, you will wind up with eggs as spotty and lumpy as my husband’s neck because he refuses to see that dermatologist my mother recommended.
Now, onto the hack!
Step One: Get little plastic bags. Not Ziploc bags, those are expensive and shouldn’t be wasted on poaching eggs. They also shouldn’t be wasted on separating out your husband’s stupid Star Wars Legos by shape and size. You’re a grown man, Sean. If you want to build a Snowspeeder so badly go back to college and get that engineering degree.
Step Two: Strain the eggs, getting the runniest part of the whites out. Make sure those eggs are as strained as your husband’s expression after talking to any of your friends for more than five minutes. There is nothing wrong with Barbara, and the way she smells is a medical condition, Sean, Jesus Christ.
Step Three: Fill a deep pot with water and place it on the stove. Heat the water to a boiling point. I see no metaphor for my state of mind or my marriage in the term “boiling point,” so I’m going to move on to the next step.
Step Four: Pour the eggs into the bags and tie them off, as if they’re my tubes. Chant “My eggs, my choice!” while your dumpy husband is within earshot.
Step Five: Place the egg bags in the boiling water two at a time. Make sure they stay perky and don’t droop, or Sean won’t touch them for five goddamn years.
Step Seven: Grab the bags softly by the tips, making sure not to burn your hands. Remove the eggs before the plastic bags melt. Cut open the bags with the scissors you take out of the drawer every once in awhile and just stare at, wondering how your life ended up like this. There are so many things in that drawer. You could do anything with that drawer. The eggs should be soft and hold their shape.
Step Eight: Serve the eggs on an attractive vehicle like bread or an English muffin while glaring at your sweatpants-clad husband Sean and reminding him that presentation is important. At this point, he will storm out of the house for good, leaving you with nothing but overdue mortgage payments and a droopy chest.
There you have it! This hack will ensure your poached eggs come out looking right every time, not that Sean will ever notice. God forbid he ever take note of the effort you put into your every action every single day of the interminable week. Frankly, you’ve wasted the best years of your life on these fucking eggs.