Peanut butter is weird. I won’t lie, and you’ll probably shun me for this, but I hardly ever like the stuff. I would blame it on my time in boarding houses, when I was forced to have it for every lunch and mid-meal snack… but I didn’t even fancy it before those times! I know, blasphemy. Whoever would dare? Me, I would. And I’ll tell you I don’t like Sweet-Chilli sauce either (but that’s another thing altogether).
I don’t think I like peanuts actually, in any form. Which is probably why I don’t understand Americans and there unconditional love, and craze, for anything peanutty. I’ve seen peanut-bars, peanut-cakes, peanut-pancakes, peanut-chocolates, peanut-ice cream, peanut-butter and peanut butter-coated-peanuts… But you could give me a peanut-flavoured cloud, and I wouldn’t eat it.. I wouldn’t even ask how you got a peanut-flavoured cloud, or how you even managed to escape the asylum. I would just say “That’s disgusting!” and talk about the weather. When I think of peanuts, I tend to think along these lines:
Weird? No. A slightly matured, evil teenage-peanut puking it’s own oil and then spewing it forth into the wide unknown isn’t weird. It’s exactly what peanut butter is. Yes, that’s right. You’re eating the insides of a peanut right NOW.
What is weird is that this doesn’t put off anyone, and for some it’s so exciting they do it even more. It becomes so bad that people resort to eating spoonfuls of it at a time, thinking that nuts are so very healthy. And so nut puke must be even healthier? It’s an addiction, people. A terrible disease, even, that takes over the taste-buds and defiles them to only enjoy the sickeningly sweet taste of peanut-puke. I once saw a pack of students being entranced by one jar of peanut-butter, only wanting a little scrap of it… like this:
But that’s not all.
You see, like people, not all peanuts are evil and enjoy puking everywhere. Some are nice. Some have peanut-families. Some have peanut-friends, peanut-girlfriends and little peanut-hearts… some are salted with feelings. Other peanuts even meet raisins and start inter-racial families (kudos to them for seeing through racial barriers).
And so the next time you want to eat a slice of bread with a mother-thick load of peanut butter scraped on top, perhaps with jam too (or jelly to you yanks), or eat a salted peanut and raisin, or feed your pet monkey…. well, think of this:
Yes. You just killed Johnny, and Johnny had a family. There was his wife-peanut and little baby-peanut, but they won’t see Johnny anymore. Because you ate him. You even licked the knife. Worst of all, in one hour you’re going to eat Johnny’s baby-peanut. You’ll even lick the knife again. And then, very likely, you’ll think “Oh, well, there’s no point for wife-peanut to survive this terrible ordeal.” and finish her off too! You just killed an entire family of peanuts… and don’t get me started on the raisins.
But that’s just my opinion, eat it if you want.
. . .
Oh, and now a cute squirrel picture: