I hate raisins.
I know that hate is a strong word, and I may have been exaggerating in my use of it. I imagine that biting into a raisin is akin to chewing on mummified scrotal sac. (I only say imagine because I've never tried scrotal sac, mummified or fresh.)
Cookies baked with raisins in them? No thanks - I'll take the candy apple from the creepy guy's house on Halloween instead. Putting those shriveled bits into a wonderful thing like cookie dough is like adding fecal graffiti to The Last Supper.
Avoidance is the key - mark my words.
Remember - friends don't let friends eat raisins.
Later.
I know that hate is a strong word, and I may have been exaggerating in my use of it. I imagine that biting into a raisin is akin to chewing on mummified scrotal sac. (I only say imagine because I've never tried scrotal sac, mummified or fresh.)
Cookies baked with raisins in them? No thanks - I'll take the candy apple from the creepy guy's house on Halloween instead. Putting those shriveled bits into a wonderful thing like cookie dough is like adding fecal graffiti to The Last Supper.
Avoidance is the key - mark my words.
Remember - friends don't let friends eat raisins.
Later.
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