Tuesday 21 February 2012

Fields of Goldfish

Helloit'sbeenawhileI'dliketoinviteyoutotakeajourneywithmeWillyoucome?

Excellent. So the other day I was eating quesadilla bought in a newfangled establishment known as a "restaurant". Quesadillas are packaged in hexagon shapes, and then cut up into pieces. A piece of quesadilla looks like this:



As you can see from its triangular shape, it is delicious. Here is a photograph of me eating a quesadilla:



Obviously I have eaten quesadillas before, that's why I have a photograph of myself immersed in that very activity. That's also how I know that they have bits of chopped up vegistible in them. For example:



Admittedly, the second photograph is of a chicken trying to masquerade as a vegetable. I included it because chicken is another option you may like to include in your quesadilla. You can also have onions or a cheese.



Anyway, when I was in the restaurant the other night, eating my quesadilla, including all the ingredients noted above, my evening was ruined by the appearance of a rogue assassin passing itself off as an onion. Never have I ever tasted anything so violent. It slashed my tongue to ribbons, embedded itself in the wounds then sewed them up with threads of onion taste so that I couldn't get rid of the flavour for THREE DAYS.

So I think the message we should all take away from this is, "FUCK OFF ONIONS."



...kinda feel mean towards the onion now...I guess he can stay...

Sigh. "Onion, you're so inappropriate! It appears you can't be trusted, be gone!"

And that's how I banished onions.

The End.