|Posted by Stephen on May 15, 2012 at 9:10 AM|
For Those Who Eat Old Grapes.
by Stephen Gillikin
Yes, this IS something I wrote some time ago, but I've been sick (lazy) and busy with so much (uninspired).
Either way, I know I've rewatched movies that I've seen before, or taken a second glance at books I've already read.
The point is...
...Raisins just need to back the fuck up.
It's true. For years I have lived under their oppression. Under their wielding sword of tarnishing otherwise delicious foods.
You ever eat an oatmeal cookie and think to yourself "Man, this would be so delicious if it wasn't for these raisins?"
And what are the raisins adding? I've eaten Bran Flakes. And I liked it. It was crunchy, slightly sweet, high in fiber, and most everything I wanted a cereal to be.
But Raisin Bran?
OK, that stuff is good, but it's basically the same nutritional benefits but with twice the calories. And if I'm gonna double my calories it better not be because of some raisin and his cavalier attitude. My extra calories should come from BBQ chicken pizza or an entire pan of brownies or a swimming pool full of Guinness. Not from some hell-bent raisin.
Chewy granola bars. They're good; so good in fact that I don't even eat them, cause eating one leads to eating two which leads to "Well, I've already eaten two so what's one more?" which leads to "Well now, I've eaten half the box, might as well just finish it."
But you know what's not good?
Raisins in that shit.
Imagine the situation: you've got a delicious looking granola bar in your hand and the approving smile of that Quaker guy looking at you from the box. Nothing right now could be better than putting this chocolate chip granola treat into your mouth.
But OH MY GOD.
What the hell is this?! These are...these are raisins! Not sweet, delectable chocolate morsels.
Inadvertently eating a raisin granola bar instead of a chocolate chip one is literally the worst feeling in the world. Yes, literally! Believe me.
Once, when I was two, my dog had a litter of puppies. I was holding one and apparently dropped him. The next day, that puppy died.
What this means is that I may or may not have killed a puppy in my life. As terrible as this guilt and sadness is for me, it is NOTHING in comparison to the array of negative emotions I process when accidentally eating raisins with granola when I fully expected delicious chocolate.
It's like vomiting onto Santa's lap. Or even worse, like Santa vomiting on your lap.
Terrible, terrible stuff.
Look raisins, we got it covered. Your own people got it covered.
Regular grapes? Awesome.
Grape juice? ...Slightly less awesome but still decently fantastic.
We don't need your shriveled up bull shit ruining the rep of the grape family. Now, I am a reasonable man, and I'm not saying all raisins should be banished. I don't advocate a raisin genocide of sorts, more so just a...raisin segregation. You just stay there. You do you. I'll do me.
Just think of it in terms of...we should just see other people. And yes, you should worry, because it actually is you.
Stephen Gillikin currently lives in a dimly lit and sweaty place. He often appears looking longingly with past memories while actually being pantsless and thinking about kittens.