12 March 2009

I bought yogurt, but I wasn't paying attention, and I got the prune flavor. Rat farts.

The other night I ran over to the nearby Met Food to grab some groceries. I hate grocery shopping, so I do it as quickly as I can. I practically run through the store, throwing items into my basket, like I'm trying to win on a game show. I always buy the same things. Always. But in the dairy aisle, I made a grave mistake. I bought my usual Activa package of little yogurt containers. Only instead of getting the blueberry kind, I got the prune kind.

This is so bad on so many levels, I can't tell you.

I will eat almost anything--once, in Denmark, I ate cow brains--but prunes are on my short list of things I won't eat. I hate how they look. I hate their name. I hate everything about them. I hate how I can remember the big container of prunes sitting in our refrigerator when I was growing up, which my mom would eat from, to make her more regular.

I'm choking down one of the containers this morning while sorting through a few levels of World of Goo. Bah. Blarrrgghh. Blecchhhhhh.

Prunes. Fuck you.

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