Thursday, May 28, 2009

ATTN: Produce Shoppers

Motherfuck. Who the fuck spends that much time picking out a fucking potato? Get out of my way Potato-Freak-Person. I just need one of those onions over there and you are soooooo in the way. It’s a fucking potato. This is not some delicate produce issue. A potato is not a finicky and possibly delicious fruit, it does not require the scrutiny. Is it NOT rotten? Is it NOT sprouting? Then fucking buy it. Let that potato win the motherfucking Ultimate Potato of the Universe prize and pick it up already! Put it in a bag if you want, just scoot the fuck over and stop blocking the onions. You still seem to be examining the motherfucking potatoes. Why? What special function do you possibly have in mind for them? Your options are to bake the living shit out of them, smash the shit out of them, or fry the shit out of them. Whatever you choose, all the potatoes in front of you will perform equally well. I could run home and get you one of my potatoes faster than you are capable of selecting one from a SEA, a fucking SEA, of equivalent potatoes. Fuck you. I am going in for an onion. I hope melons aren’t on your shopping list fucker.

14 comments:

  1. Oh dear! This gave me a much needed laugh. Thanks!

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  2. that was the most awesome rant i've seen in weeks. please do post such things again. :D i'm going to laugh every time i see a potato for a week.

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  3. They weren't doing this, were they? I'm glad your settling into your sabatical blogging persona.

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  4. Oh good, you are back to your pre-tenure take the shit out back self! I can't wait for you to hit the mall.

    pls, funny shit man!

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  5. I started snickering at the first sentence and was wiping tears from my eyes by the end. Bravo.

    "Ultimate Potato of the Universe" = worthy of being engraved on something.

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  6. Today, I went to the grocery store for the sole purpose of purchasing some broccoli. I made it to within ten feet but was then broccoli-blocked by an abominable display of Grocery Courtesy. This ancient shriveled husk of a man decided that he had to defer to a slightly less mausoleum-worthy woman and let her go through the aisle first. But no, after you. No, after you! He kept inching his cart back and forth across the aisle with each repetition. Needless to say, nobody bothered to say after ME. Finally, I detoured all the way around the entire produce department to get to the broccoli. Of course, by then they were just finishing up their magnificent cart ballet, and the old dude started barreling straight toward me with his cart! You can wait for five minutes to bring a blush to the face of some supermarket Blanche Dubois but god forbid you should wait fifteen seconds for me to seize my long-awaited broccoli before you send me to my grave with tetanus from spiking me with a grocery cart.

    P.S. Maybe your guy was building a potato clock?

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  7. Sounds to me like Potato-Freak-Person may have been just a wee bit stoned. Hard to fathom anyone could be that entranced by tubers without herbal enhancement.

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  8. I knew you had it in you, Dr. No. And I had the same problem today. I'm trying to remember what I was trying to get . . . I kind of pushed a little bit.

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  9. Just when I link to one XKCD comic they put this one out today, which I think will resonate here nicely.

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  10. Oh, hell yeah! Was Mr./Ms. Potatohead on a cell phone at the same time, just chatting away about Aunt Ethel's sciatica, while their small child wandered over to the eggs and began conducting experiments to see if all eggs fall to the ground at the same rate?

    Or perhaps Potatohead had a fetish for potatoes and was letting his freakflag fly right their among the produce, fondling and caressing the potatoes, fantasizing about what he (or she) would do with the potato when they both got home. Was the Potatohead mumbling, "oooh, you are a dirty potato. A dirty dirty potato. You've been so naughty."

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  11. These comments are so funny I don't even know where to begin...you have all reminded me why blogging is so fucking fun.

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  12. In the store today, an old lady was sizing up the medium eggs with the large eggs!? Actually, she was hogging up the whole fucking egg area, with multiple cartons open, spread out over the donut boxes on a table while she swapped the eggs out. She asked me if I could trade eggs when she looked at mine, and I mean she stuck her entire face in MY carton?!! for fucks sake. I thought of you! I told her NO.

    Can you imagine Dr. No being in the produce aisle with THIS family? I wouldn't last a millisecond.

    http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/?p=1620

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  13. I loved this post!

    In case you need further inspiration now that you're on sabbatical and all...tag!

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  14. I rarely have such extreme expreiences at the grocery store; I just find it annoying that everyone there seems to move in slow motion. My big problem is that I absolutely CANNOT choose the quickest check-out line; if there was an Olympic competition for picking the slowest checkout line, I'd be a perennial gold-medal winner. It never fails; there can be five lines, four of which have five to eight people in them, each with full shopping carts, and one of which has one person ahead of me with five items in a basket, so I'll get into that line, and it turns out that they want to pay with a third-party check from Argentina, and spend half an hour arguing when told that they can't, and it STILL winds up being the slowest line.

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