I’ve been to the supermarket a good hundred times in my life, so I’m about as qualified as any to contribute to the quality of a given shopping experience. Even, if not especially as it pertains to melon thumpery.
“The man” tries to keep you down, as you must know. I know my authoritarian daddy-man tries to keep me down,* but nowhere as much as the supermarket. In your case the man tries to push items “on sale” and produce of least freshness. Why do you think the freshest milk is always at the back? Exactly!
Enough setup, let’s thump us a melon or two. We’re wandering through that produce field of dreams where fruits and veggies linger for the purchase-man’s delight. There’s stuff here I’ve never even heard of, exotic stuff like tomatoes and bell peppers. Who’s ever heard of those?
Then you see the outlandish produce like arugala and starfruit. God’s all-knowing and stuff, but what are those darned things all about? Celery? Leeks? What? Nothing, never mind.
So, seriously, let’s thump us some melons. I’m as qualified as any other. It’s as scientific as many studies I pursue; and I’m as qualified as even the highest scientist.
News spread yesterday of a kindly though mentally askew “Easter Rabbit” spreading joy, happiness and eggs throughout the Christian world at random. Late breaking developments uncovered the sinister truth behind the tainted loot.
Sugar. Sucrose, glucose, fructose or corn syrup, it’s all the same madness straight off the cane. According to researchers and ingredient lists, it’s this substance that was found in high concentrations throughout nearly all last Sunday’s candy buffet.
If you suspect your candy was laced with this highly reactive stimulant you should read the ingredients, or look for these symptoms in your unfortunate consumers:
Excitability and mania.
Rampant mood swings.
Cravings for more/addiction.
Without knowing it, I inadvertently ingested many, many pieces of the sugar laden candy and chocolate. Before I knew what was happening the sweetness had gone straight to my head and my behavior became wild and even less predictable than usual. I put anything I could on my head, I climbed anything with a decent paw-hold and yipped like a giddy animal ad faux-infinitum.
It was heavenly madness with a heavy price whose final bill I’d yet to see. I asked for more and more until they cut me off, then stole more until I got caught. Then it started to wear off in a very ugly way. I came down hard with severe depression before I finally passed out.
The motivation of this hopping rabid creature is as yet unknown. No demands have been issued at this time but it is believed he had some eleven million accomplices in his many-fronted assault on innocent God-fearing and God-misunderstanding children around the world.
If you are still in possession of second-coming related candy, beware that it may in face contain large amounts of highly volatile sugar or sugar derivatives. While it may improve the taste it will surely lead to your junior journalist stealing your toys and kitchenware and selling them on the playground just to get his next divine, delightful candy fix.
I’m familiar with all kinds of animals from cats to dogs to filthy panda bears. What I wasn’t aware of was philanthropic rabbits with Alzheimers who forgetfully leave their most prized possessions lying about unprotected.
It’s Sunday morning and I’m going to chuck all childlike-innocent-like when the minister guy tells us about a day of this living dead Jesus-style day and non-mammalian rabbits leaving eggs outside potentially containing money, candy, and toys in lieu of the more traditional yoke. Hey, I’m game for anything, let’s go.
Next thing I know I’m out on the lawn wandering about expected to track down these errant mammal-eggs. Everyone is overjoyed as if it’s a celebration instead of an epidemic and somehow us newbies can collect them better than government officials in haz-mat suits. It’s weird, but again I’m game for it.
Skip a bit because I was preoccupied with nabbing eggs from clever hiding places like the lawn, next to the lawn and other very tricky spots best known as “in plain sight,” which means very, very well concealed.
These eggs had no business being lost in the first place. That stupid jackalope left all kinds of candy, toys and coinage (I’ll take “things that go in my mouth” for $500, Alex) in relatively obvious places. I tried to turn them in to the lost and found but they wouldn’t take them. I made out like a quarter-bandito on this day.
Then it all ended. I think all the eggs were picked up by then but I think someone caught us on the egg-hunt without any kind of hunting licenses. Formalities can be frustrating at times.
It may not be too late for you dear readers to get in on this peculiar emergency. Head outside right now and start looking for colorful decorative eggs. Make sure they aren’t in a nest or ready to hatch, then drag them home immediately. You, my friend, may be in the mix to gobble up candy or chocolate and not the traditional found-in-public egg filler of the rancid hard-boiled sort.
As an astute observer of all things botanical and astrological, I love fish. They are pretty, intriguing and satisfied with not being overly interesting.
I recently had the opportunity to tour one such octopus’s garden in the shade to study the meaning and operation of just such creatures without the hassle of even getting moist. While I wasn’t sure if I was more amazed by the fact that it was a dry aquarium of sorts or mortified that it was hack art comprised of sea corpses, I was drawn in by it nonetheless.
I’ve seen stars before and not just when I’ve taken a good noggin-topple off the couch. There are starfishies in the water and the astronomical kind I’ve had futily pointed out to me in the sky (due to my field of focus being shorter than 180 million light years) but never had I seen a dry starfish, and this one was bound in cement to boot.
Unlike their aquatic counterparts, the pneumatic sealife was entirely inanimate. Though colorful, well textured and very easy to sneak up on, they just didn’t seem to swim very well or even wiggle about. You see it’s interesting, but only kind of.
While the wonders of dry fish will surely outlive the critters themselves, amateur scientists are gathering from the farthest corners of the park just for a chance to crack the un-cracked, and that’s not even talking about the lobster.