Okay. So I'm not sporting a lot of street cred on the food blogger front. I know this. My recipe card collection has a small following of fans who get my romance with offensive food photography. Many of them, however, may be surprised to discover that even with my love for ugly food, I can't see the point of Edible Arrangements. Yeah. I know it's fruit. It's a gift. Got that. Still, I'd rather you sent me an arrangement of meat or a bouquet of corpse flowers than to receive a bucket of carved fruit. (Especially if it's carved to look like that fucking cat!)
Now don't get me wrong. I like fruit. Fruit is good. But a basket of pre-cut fruit has about a 5 minute shelf life and what you're giving me is something that will go brown on my counter before I've tipped the delivery guy. But bitching about Edible Arrangements isn't where I meant to go with this. I digress. As usual.
Earlier today my friend-cum-nemesis, Annie, knowing my wrath for carved fruit art, forwarded me an abomination in watermelon. Rude, right? So in response to my suggestion that Annie should die for her offense, another friend suggested that it could have been worse as Annie could have sent me a fruit fetus. A WHAT? Dear God, no. That is not something that could possibly exist, right? Wrong.
Really? A fetus of watermelon encased in Jell-o? Surely there can't be more than one watermelon fetus in the world, can there? Oh. Yes. There can.
What, in the hell, is wrong with people?