soylent black

bloopy wrote about the five second rule and it reminded me of why i can't eat raisins.

imagine, if you will, an eight-year-old amy: innocent, happy-go-lucky, raisin-loving. prone to using big words, but otherwise a fine patriotic product of the american midwest.

until one day in the dank basement of a neighborhood friend. a raisin was dropped into the dark green shaggy carpet, i retrieved it with my pudgy little fingers, and half a second before it went into my mouth i noticed that it was wriggling. i'd missed the raisin and picked up a HUGE juicy black ant.

i almost threw up and have not voluntarily eaten a plain raisin since. baked in things or as part of trail mix, fine. but a solitary raisin always seems vaguely, disturbingly animate to me.

interestingly, the five second rule (which is more like a thirty second rule, in my case) was unaffected by the incident.