What is there to say? I'm not very interesting. I'm not a good writer. I don't even dress well. If you insist on knowing something about me just wander through the archives. It's all there.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

On eating shelled green peas

If you take green peas out of the shell, I hate them. As my waistline will attest, I like most foods. There are almost no vegetables on my “ick” list, except shelled green peas. I not only do not like them. They actually make me gag. They are my metaphorical “Green Eggs and Ham.”. It doesn’t matter if they are canned, frozen, dried, put in soup, potpies, or otherwise mutilated, I do not like them in a car, bar, boat or with a goat.

I have tried for many years to figure out why. I can’t recall any childhood “Green Peas Incidents”. I have nothing against the color green or the letter P. None of my other mental disorders, emotional incongruities, or chemical imbalances involve members of the plant family. I don’t even think I can blame genetics, the rest of my bloodline love the nasty things. I can only come up with one tried and true time-tested explanation.

Government Conspiracy.


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