Review of Peas

This is going to be the most terrifying review I've ever written ever. It goes like this:


Once upon a time, there was a girl who went to some kind of community function for her former high school. It had refreshments and h'ors d'oeuvres that were supposed to be fancy, and then after the refreshments was a performance by a Beatles tribute band. They were called something related to the Beatles that I don't remember.

The girl and her parents and sister all went, and a waitress offered them a plate of mini chicken pot pies. This girl was not educated on anything food-related because she only liked foods that were the color beige. When she asked what was in the chicken pot pie, the waitress told her it had chicken and dough. Great, thought the girl, taking a large bite. What could be better than free food that was made out of dough?

As she took the first bite, her sister watched and elbowed their father in concern. The sister and father both had intense passions for food and cuisine knowledge, and so they knew about the other contents in the chicken pot pie. They watched as the girl looked at the other half of the pie that she still held in her hand, her eyes widening in horror. The chicken pot pie had more than just chicken. It had-- PEAS (and carrots)!

These peas are frozen. The ones in the pie were not frozen.

The girl looked at her family in panic. The unthinkable had happened... she had willingly consumed peas. Paralyzed with revulsion, she stared at the half of the pea that was still in the pie. She would rather have found half a worm. There were peas in her mouth. E gads!

Seeing the impending disaster and humiliation that the girl was about to bring upon the family, the sister acted fast. She grabbed the plate with the remaining pot pie out of the girl's hand, snatched her father's cocktail napkin from his hand, and thrust it in the girl's face, hissing, "Spit it out!"

And she did.

Yay!

The moral of this story: don't eat unidentified and/or suspicious foods. Also peas are the most disgusting food on the planet. I would rather eat a million units of flan than one pea (that's a big deal because I hate flan).

That was a falsehood, I would never eat flan. I feel nauseous just thinking about it.

Review of Cicadas

There is a phenomenon in the Midwest known as the 17-year cicadas. It’s possible that these exist in other places too, but I’m not looking it up. I’m not a librarian.

Unfortunately for me, the first summer of the cicadas that I experienced was when I was seventeen. Since the last summer of cicadas had occurred seventeen years earlier, which was before I was born. Finding out at 17 years old that you’re about to be accosted by a cicada swarm is not fun. It is the worst birthday surprise ever. I mean they weren’t actually there on my birthday, but still.

You know what a cicada summer is like? It is a living hell. They swarm around, and they buzz, and they land on you, and it’s the worst. I could put a picture in this post right about now, but HELL TO THE FUCKING NO. Why would I put a picture of a cicada on my blog. WHY.

I know, I will draw a picture with my excellent art skills. Observe:

This is a diagram of a cicada. He is feeling angry.

 
 You see why a being such as this would strike fear into the hearts of men. And me.

According to a Mister Charles Darwin, cicadas should not exist. That's not a direct quote, but I bet he would totally agree. Cicadas do not do anything other than wreak havoc for the 2-3 weeks that they are around every 17 years. They are actually the dumbest animals ever.

Imagine this scenario: you are a cicada, and you are flying around because why the hell not? You're going to die in two weeks anyway. But instead of choosing to fly in circles inside the forest preserve from whence you emerged, you come up with a brilliant idea-- you're going to fly across a large, busy street! Who cares that you can't move very fast and are incapable of traveling in a straight line? Dodging traffic is the best game ever! It's like Frogger, but a million times more horrible!

This lack of simple survival instincts is why cicadas should not exist. But for some odd reason, they do. And they drunkenly zigzag across the road, and if you hit them by mistake they splatter into green goop on your windshield. I promise, it's literally green. I almost had an accident the first time that happened.

Cicadas are the worst of the bugs. Thank goodness, by the time they're supposed to come out again, I'll be 34 and will be able to take myself on vacation until they're gone. You know who is not excited to be 34? Me, that's who. THE END