Why does everyone hate this stuff?
Sure, you can really only eat one bite.
And this 14 pound monstrocity stuffed to the sugary gills with unnaturally colored, moist fruit chunks of undetermined origin may not be the most appetizing holiday treat around.
And jokes have been made about this poor black sheep of the dessert community for SO long, that even by the time Garfield was using them as doorstops, fruit cake humor had already become old hat.
All that being said, I dig them! And my mom gets me one every Christmas, so it’s tradition.
Do I detect a hint of embalming fluid? Delicious!
IN OTHER NEWS:
If I had to choose my biggest pet peeve, it would have to be dropping things.
It all started 15 years ago with my second job in the mall. I won’t say where I worked, but let’s just say I sold little bits of cheap jewelry to little people.
All these brats did was walk by a rack, run their grimy little hands against these aforementioned items, causing several of them to drop to the floor.
Three guesses if they picked any of them up.
Even an adult would examine an ugly floral scrunchie, drop it on the ground and kick it next to the 4 other scrunchies already lying there.
And the district manager wondered why I ignored protocol, blasting Nirvana on the stereo system and spray painting my hair silver.
I’ll never forget when a mother walked up to the counter and asked me “Is he singing RAPE ME?!?”
Probably the same mother that would deviously transport a regularly priced hemp necklace to the discount bin so I’d be forced to give her the cheaper price.
But not the same lady that was so rude to me I told her to leave and as she angrily departed, I gave her my cheesiest smile, waved and shouted “BYE BYE NOW!”
I spent my days showered in deadly, neon lights, surrounded by far too much pink….picking up after people like a horse wrangler at a parade.
This job made me hate 95% of the human population.
Now, when I take a dirty plate to the kitchen and the used napkin on top floats away to the floor….MY BLOOD BOILS!!
I snatch it up with such spite, you’d of thought I was picking up freshly disemboweled organs.
There are two instances of dropping which assist me in achieving the highest levels of vexation.
One: knocking something over on a counter (or worse, in the shower!) which starts a chain reaction, knocking over half a dozen items in it’s destructive wake.
Two: creating the perfect plate of food. Let’s say a 4 story dream sandwich or an obscene portion of Thanksgiving leftovers….and dropping the entire thing on the floor. And not just any floor. A filthy, dog hair covered carpet where nothing can be salvaged.