For my entire life I've been trying to convince myself that I am something that I am not, nor that I was ever intended to be. For 26 years (is that how old I am? Sometimes I forget) I've presented myself as an entirely different person than I truly am.
I thought of it yesterday, for a bit, but I wouldn't let myself think too hard--I couldn't face the truth on a Sunday. But today, as I walked up the stairs to CHS, past the students, past the area at the top of the stairs where a couple of students once put a fart machine with a sensor that went pfffffffffffrrrrrrrttttttt everytime someone walked past it at the top of the stairs--as I walked up those stairs, two briefcases in one hand, one bowl of fresh oatmeal chocolate chips in the other I finally admitted it to myself:
I fucking hate raisins.
I hate them. All this time I've pretended that I liked them, ate bread pudding with ease, scarfing up each raisin and leaving an empty plate of brown sugar wetness. I've even eaten little boxes of sun-maid raisins. I even claimed once that oatmeal raisin cookies were my favorite. I used to say that. I AM A BIG LIAR. They aren't my favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip are my favorite, because I love oatmeal. And I love chocolate. I also would probably enjoy a nice oatmeal butterscotch or white chip. And I'll eat an oatmeal raisin cookie, I really will. But it's only for the oatmeal. If if were socially tolerable to spit out the raisins to the side, I would.
Because raisins are gross. The texture is weird, the taste is sour and nauseating, and the fact that people consider a raisin a snack or even a dessert is downright appalling. Ants on a log? Sure. Without the ants, please. Anytime you eat a trailmix? How about we just have peanuts and m&m's, please. Leave the fucking raisins out, and especially don't think you can put a ridiculous ratio of raisins in there, so they dominante the entire treat.
Fuck you, raisins. Why can't you be more like Sixlets. I love Sixlets.
Same shit, different outfit.
2 comments:
I agree. Nasty brown sugary turds. Oh, and don't get me started on those "golden" ones. Why would anyone do that to a grape? No really, why?
I don't know if I can acknowledge your existence anymore. I love raisins and feel an air of superiority rolling off your hate speech toward my little brown nuggets.
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