Fuck. Fuck. Fuck this shit. Oh my sweet mother jones, this is the most disgusting fruit I’ve ever had. All I could do was grimace as I tried to chew up my first piece. It took about three minutes of grumpy chewing before I could bear to swallow it. I have an entire sphere of this horror left. Cantaloupe, why do you look like a diseased brain on the outside? Why do you look cute like a pumpkin on the inside only then to taste like the slimy insides of an animal carcass? The entire kitchen smells of its over ripe juice, which now coats the sink, the trash can, and Matt’s arms. My manfriend was kind enough to slice it up for me, as I’m sure I wouldn’t have had the fortitude to complete the labor. I surely would have ducked out when the time came to scoop out the slimy, seeded innards. Vegetables don’t give you this kind of trouble. This is why vegetables and I work so well. That shit is ready to eat. Just rinse and put it in your mouth. Dip it. Tempura it. Put it on a sandwich. You really can’t go wrong with a veggie. If I even make it through a second helping of this damned cantaloupe, I would be shocked and quite impressed with myself. Seriously, though, I am stopping for now. My pride is NOT worth this cold, sticky goop. Are you a liquid or a solid, cantaloupe? Figure it out!
OH LAWD it smells like trash… like gallons of day old, left-outside-in-the-sun garbage. This is why I don’t care for Bath & Body stores…. you walk in, and its all vanilla this, cinnamon that, and then WHAM! “Here are 30 aisles of melon lotions, fanks for shopping!”