That apple fritter you forced out of my mouth was TASTY (as it went down, not so much in reverse). But even if you hate me, have some respect for other foods! That fritter was your colleague, show some damn collegiality lettuce! Sure, that fritter worked in the Bakery and you work in Produce, but you both work in the Outer Grocery Regions. That should unite you. But you had to get all uppity didn’t you lettuce? Well, on behalf of that tasty fritter: Fuck you lettuce.
Friday, January 29, 2010
You may be thinking “hey, where the fuck have you been?” Damn. That’s not very polite. Why not open with a cheery “how the fuck have you been?” Good is the answer, but then, very angry became the answer. What am I so mad at? Lettuce. That’s right, salad, the crunchy addition to a sandwich, seafood underlayment, wrapper of spicy chicken concoctions, that staple of produce, plain old fucking lettuce. As angry at lettuce as I am, I believe I must ask myself “why is lettuce so mad at me?” Why lettuce? Why did you make me vomit my entire fucking midsection out? In a hotel bathroom, sink (and tub now that I think about it) of all places? Why lettuce? Why do you hate me? Why?