Food Complaints

I went grocery shopping with the girls yesterday. Usually I make a list and send Dilf to the store, because as Nick will tell you, I am not well-behaved in the store. But, since I had my children with me, I refrained from using any profanity or flipping off the produce displays.

I hate the grocery store because food manufacturers and chemical companies are trying to kill me. And they don't even have the decency to hire an assassin and pay for it themselves; they want me to pay for it. That makes them worse than the mafia.

I don't know for sure they're trying to kill me, I just have a strong inkling. They list the poisons on the label, because they know very well I have no idea which chemical compounds do what. It's not like I can go to the grocery store with a consortium of chemists and lawyers to help me determine what's safe to eat and what will liquify my innards.

I wish I did have someone who could read labels for me and tell me, "Don't buy that. It's basically bleach with cherry flavoring added." But no.

Even when you buy produce, you don't know what was sprayed on it or if it was exposed to some biochemical agent. Even organics can be affected by neighboring non-organic farms. And that's if you can afford organics.

I wanted to buy fruit for my children. It's difficult at this time of year, because the citrus season is ending and the spring fruits aren't in season yet. So, we got some bananas. "Look!" cried Elder, sighting a display, "Apples that taste like grapes!" What in holy hell is that??? Then, I went to the canned fruit, looking for some packed in juice. I know there used to be tons of options, but now they're all packed in "heavy syrup." Heavy Syrup! I am not paying you motherfuckers for sugar -- nay, not even sugar, CORN SYRUP! I wish I could shove one of those cans up someone's ass, sideways.

And consumer protection? Bah. BAH! Our government: "Don't be a bunch of sissies, there's nothing wrong with eating downer cows. Why, just the other day, I..." (aide whispers feverishly in his ear, "...sound like a fucking idiot" can be heard) ... "Excuse me, where was I? Oh, yes. Downer cows must never enter the food supply! And we'll make sure they don't -- you have my word on that."

I feel better already.
Name: Übermilf
Location: Chicago Area

If being easily irritated, impatient and rebellious is sexy, then call me MILF -- Übermilf.

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