May 23, 2010
Snap, Pop, Oh!
If they can put a man on the moon and if the Voyager 2 space probe can visit all four of the Outer Planets and their systems of moons and rings, including the first two visits to previously unexplored Uranus and Neptune, then why can’t they make a yogurt that doesn’t pop you in the face?
When deciding to imbibe the tasty health treat that is yogurt, I look like I’m opening a container of yellow cake uranium, I’m so careful when I peel back the “foil for my protection.” Even so, no matter how hard I try, no matter how slowly I go, no matter how well aware I am of prior outcomes, there’s still that “Snap, pop, oh!” as droplets of yogurtized goodness sprinkle upon me.
But you know this scourge is not just limited to cultured products, having spread to other “no need to chew” foods for which I have a penchant. Victuals such as applesauce and pudding, to name two, create a daily life bursting with encounters of the spotty kind. Where I used to enjoy the convenience that is not masticating, I am now paying dearly for my laziness.
I’m starting to show telltale signs of PTSD due to my “When Snack Foods Attack” experiences. Having to steel myself for each encounter has caused me to appear a bit twitchy and desperate looking, rendering me into a vision nothing like those radiantly happy, yogurt-slurping, pudding-celebrating, applesauce-delighting actors on television.
Though I know these savory snacks will spit on me, I want them, nay, I crave these doll-sized, 60-calorie serving, completely fortified with my daily vitamins and minerals fare, so I continue my Lucy-holding-the-football-for-Charlie-Brown relationship with them.
I tell you, it gives a whole new meaning to the slogan, “Good to the last drop” because my last drops are greatly affected by the fact that I’m wearing several first drops which, in turn, make my snack food go all the faster.
I mean, have you tried to spot clean gelatinous drops of snack shots from your garments lately? My “Tide to Go” usually is my “Tide Does the Trick,” but not when dealing with a substance like inulin, which is what’s in these things, and is described as a “natural dietary fiber.” Oh, good, I was worried it was something unnatural like, cocoa processed with alkali, surcralose, or even that rascal, carrageenan. Okay, that last one looks a little too close for comfort to that other bad word, carcinogen, and I’m reading all of this straight off the label.
I thought I was eating this stuff for my health, but it looks like I ought to lay off of them for my health. Well, super, that should take care of my “Snap, pop, oh!” laundry issues.
I’m glad we resolved that one. Thanks for letting me write about this in order to process and commit to making a change I can do less laundry by. Now I can move on to other things like—wait, just a second, I want to grab a writing implement and make a note about what I need to move on to, before I forget it.
Huh. I don’t remember buying this pen and, actually, it looks as though it’s… “Snap, pop, oh!” …leaking.
If they can put a man on the moon and if the Voyager 2 space probe can visit all four of the Outer Planets and their systems of moons and rings, including the first two visits to previously unexplored Uranus and Neptune, then why can’t they make a yogurt that doesn’t pop you in the face?
When deciding to imbibe the tasty health treat that is yogurt, I look like I’m opening a container of yellow cake uranium, I’m so careful when I peel back the “foil for my protection.” Even so, no matter how hard I try, no matter how slowly I go, no matter how well aware I am of prior outcomes, there’s still that “Snap, pop, oh!” as droplets of yogurtized goodness sprinkle upon me.
But you know this scourge is not just limited to cultured products, having spread to other “no need to chew” foods for which I have a penchant. Victuals such as applesauce and pudding, to name two, create a daily life bursting with encounters of the spotty kind. Where I used to enjoy the convenience that is not masticating, I am now paying dearly for my laziness.
I’m starting to show telltale signs of PTSD due to my “When Snack Foods Attack” experiences. Having to steel myself for each encounter has caused me to appear a bit twitchy and desperate looking, rendering me into a vision nothing like those radiantly happy, yogurt-slurping, pudding-celebrating, applesauce-delighting actors on television.
Though I know these savory snacks will spit on me, I want them, nay, I crave these doll-sized, 60-calorie serving, completely fortified with my daily vitamins and minerals fare, so I continue my Lucy-holding-the-football-for-Charlie-Brown relationship with them.
I tell you, it gives a whole new meaning to the slogan, “Good to the last drop” because my last drops are greatly affected by the fact that I’m wearing several first drops which, in turn, make my snack food go all the faster.
I mean, have you tried to spot clean gelatinous drops of snack shots from your garments lately? My “Tide to Go” usually is my “Tide Does the Trick,” but not when dealing with a substance like inulin, which is what’s in these things, and is described as a “natural dietary fiber.” Oh, good, I was worried it was something unnatural like, cocoa processed with alkali, surcralose, or even that rascal, carrageenan. Okay, that last one looks a little too close for comfort to that other bad word, carcinogen, and I’m reading all of this straight off the label.
I thought I was eating this stuff for my health, but it looks like I ought to lay off of them for my health. Well, super, that should take care of my “Snap, pop, oh!” laundry issues.
I’m glad we resolved that one. Thanks for letting me write about this in order to process and commit to making a change I can do less laundry by. Now I can move on to other things like—wait, just a second, I want to grab a writing implement and make a note about what I need to move on to, before I forget it.
Huh. I don’t remember buying this pen and, actually, it looks as though it’s… “Snap, pop, oh!” …leaking.
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