Wednesday, December 2, 2015

one potato, two potato, old potato, blorgh!

Text to Einstein: Am I dying again?
Einstein: Probably.  What did you eat this time?
Wendy: a questionable sweet potato.  Was it too old?
Einstein:  How the fuck should I know?

(haha, just kidding, he didn't say that, although we all know he was thinking it.  He's way too nice to verbalize it, however.)

This potato seemed a bit off.  I hate wasting food, so I ate it anyway.  I may play it safe and throw the rest of the bag out.  Maybe just the soft, fuzzy ones.  Just goofing.  Or am I?  Sigh, I thought potatoes were supposed to last longer.  I'm sure I'm storing them incorrectly, but I'm confused where else to store them.  I know they're not supposed to be in the fridge, but there is no other cool, dark spot in the house.  It's Florida, ffs.  Everywhere else is 75-80 F.  We don't have basements or root cellars.  Fuck, I don't even know what a root cellar is, except something from a horror movie, WHICH I REFUSE TO WATCH.

Maybe I need to stop buying them (sweet potatoes, not horror movies.  That would be weird considering I won't watch them).  Or at least stop buying a bag at a time, and buy only one or two.  I'd never last a fkn day on Mars by myself, growing my own potatoes.  Even if I could text Einstein for tips.  You may have read how I've killed off copious amounts of orchid plants.  I'm amazed every day that I haven't accidentally poisoned myself or the cat.  We must be hardy stock.

Definitely write yourself a mental note, never eat at Wendy's house.  :P

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