Yeah, whenever I need a fresh, juicy tomato for a salad, I just walk across the street and pick one from the gutter…
…because I just can’t depend on the grocery store EVER having ripe red tomatoes. I live in California! Why do we have to grow our own in order to be able to TASTE a frickin’ tomato? Oh sure, they LOOK red in the store, but you get them home, you make sure not to put them in the refrigerator because they will ripen better in room temperature, you slice one up for your turkey club sandwich, you take a big bite of soft chewy bread, fresh roasted turkey, some swiss cheese and BLECK! a crunchy flavorless tomato.
Every time a restaurant has the audacity to claim that the disk of pink styrofoam on that sandwich or cheeseburger is a tomato, I must invariably remove it. Crunchy, bland sections of the alleged red fruit (or is it a vegetable, did they ever get a final answer on that?) are pushed around the plate in my salads. I’m tempted to yell out cringe-inducing phrases like, “Who do you have to fuck to get a decent tomato around here?!”
There is no excuse for this madness. I’ve even failed to secure the goods at Farmer’s Markets. “Oh, you have to wait until tomato season,” they say. I DID wait. And wait. And wait.
I’m still waiting.
MY KINGDOM FOR A PASSABLE TOMATO!
This is why I’m reduced to darting across the street to these babies:
I mean, what’s a little lawn fertilizer runoff between neighbors? At least I’m enjoying sandwiches again. BLT, anyone?
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Goat Link of the Day
Taunt Vortex gives us a new vitamin supplement with an arousing name. It’s rhymes with Super Corny Goat Weed.
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A Humor Carnival
EttaRose from Edge of Sanity is hosting the Humorbloggers.com Humor Carnival on her blog. My post about growing up in the 70s (My Veins Bleed UHF) is a part of this carnival. You can visit Edge of Sanity to see all the other participants.
