You know what really wedges my gitch? PICKY EATERS. No, I'm not talking about you over there not liking cooked carrots, or if you're really not a fan of that stupid-ass Weetabix cereal my husband likes--
Oh, you don't have Weetabix? Well, let me just sum it up for you: it's this stupid, bullsh*t cereal that turns into mushy wheat pulp the SECOND milk touches it, so the only way to enjoy it is to either eat it dry, with a glass of milk on the side, or by tipping the cereal bowl up at an 80 degree angle so the milk stays away from it until you're ready to scoop the two up together.
No, I'm talking about the HARD CORE PICKY EATERS. You know who you are out there. I don't care how lovely a person you are--when it comes to food, you are ANNOYING. If you go to a lavish Chinese buffet, and can HARDLY find anything to eat: nobody wants to invite you along. Ditto for any other restaurant. If you can only eat certain foods prepared in the exact same, certain way--you are ANNOYING. If you get all nervous when you know your restaurant pork chops come with apple sauce, and you're all nervous about "what's in the applesauce," you are annoying. Because, who's nervous about applesauce for crap's sake???
First, I will turn the lens on myself. What don't I like?
Things I don't really like:
|Come to think of it--he's a little hard to take too|
|made lovingly by your mom--now with extra SUCK baked right in!|
What a sucky, stupid loaf, all chewy and onion-y. I don't care how much ketchup you put on it, the traditional meat loaf does NOT turn my crank. I am THIS CLOSE to perfecting a mushroom meatloaf that is so delicious it will make you hold me, caress me, and tell me that I was right about that OTHER meatloaf. What was worse than meatloaf though? The next day's MEATLOAF SANDWICH. My mother foisted that one on me a few times until I was FORCED to protest.
I CAN eat meatloaf, and I don't hate it. It's just not on my list of loves.
2. Pork. I don't hate pork. I think a pulled-pork sandwich is the SHIZNIT. I enjoy sausage, as long as it doesn't have those unchewable rolly white things. And for the record, what the hell are those things? The BALL of BALL AND SOCKET joint fame?!? A ball of some sort of cartilage horror? My god, I swear that if more women were in charge of making sausage, you'd never be happily chomping away and suddenly bite down on "the hard thing."
Okay, so what's my problem with pork? It's simple: once on my way back to my home in suburban hell, I took a different off-ramp from the highway, to take a nicer, more country-ish drive. Waiting at the stop light beside me was a giant truck FILLED with large, live pigs. What caught my attention was the quiet, whistling sigh that came from the truck; from one of the pigs. Then, the next day, my boss at my job then confirmed that the RENDERING PLANT was JUST around the corner from that stop light.
That freaked my sh*t out. Ergo, I hardly ever buy pork.
3. broccoli and other super green CHLOROPHYLL CHOKED vegetables. Gross. Someone help me and tell me how the hell I'm suposed to cook kale or collard greens so that they're STILL healthy, but don't taste gross. That being said, I eat broccoli--OFTEN.
|Satan's snacks. Why not try some rapini for an extra bitter, revolting treat?|
4. I can't seem to eat a baked sweet potato anymore since being pregnant with the daughter. You know: like when you poke some fork holes into the skin, and toss the whole potato in the oven to bake it, then slice it open and dig in? I have to cut that thing up before I roast it now, lest the stringy texture inspire the need to gag.
5. No organ meats or flukey meats with flackers. This is my pickiest thing: I will not try tripe, tongue, kidneys, livers, eyeballs, testicles, stomachs with porridge horrors steamed inside or basically anything that had any important bodily fluids (aside from blood--HA--you thought you got me on that one!) flowing through it.
|Just think: someone saw this at the grocery store and thought; "I know what I'm havin' for dinner tonight!"|