“Ounce for ounce, bite for bite… BETTER THAN APPLES.”
Prunes have got it tough, man. I think you need to have some sort of advanced degree in marketing to pur a positive spin on something that looks like a bucket of demon hearts. When you read the little fine-print explanation, they mean”better” in that it’s way more fiber per bite. By that reasoning, Eric Johnson, the performer last night, is second for second better than The Beatles. If “better” means “more notes”.
A closing FYI: t’s painful to watch not-so-attractive girls come on to guys. I don’t know what the exact mixture of desperation of lack of experience is, but it ain’t pretty. “I don’t mean to be rude er nothin, but if you don’t work out you gotta be liftin’ plywood all day er sumthin,” she says, putting her hand on his arm and leaving it there.
I just want to scream, “have some subtlety, woman!”