Better than Apples

“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!”

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  1. You’re being rather tough on women these days. Remember, not everyone (male or female) can exude your subtle grace.

    I mean, telling the ice cream cashier in a store filled with children that you’d use all those one dollar bills (your change) at the strip club you were heading to later…poetic.

  2. You’re being a little tough on women these days. Not everyone (male or female) can exude your subtle grace.
    I mean, telling the ice cream cashier in a store filled with children that you’d use all those one dollar bills (your change) at the strip club you were going to later…lyrical.

  3. Man Brian you are hard to please, you don’t like women to come right out and ask for a good ass fucking by the urinals, and you don’t like the compliment thinly disguised as an observation…geeze.
    Out here the guys have a startling come on practice. They’ll say something like, “you ought to come out for a ride (on a horse in this case- swimming or hiking can also be used) sometime” and I will politely say something like “yeah I would love to” – which in the South East means absolutely nothing as we are always issuing fake invitations and responding with fake enthusiasm. Well then the feller will say, “what are you doing right now?” and I’ll think fast and make something up, “oh I have to go home and do laundry”. A Chapel Hill guy if he even got to this point would drop it but out here they’ll say, “Well how long is that going to take?” and it’ll go on like this for awhile. I asked a guy friend whats up with the pushiness and he said it had to do with the wide open space out here. I reckon these buckaroos get to feelin a might lonely on the range, and don’t know when they might come across another woman so they don’t let them get away iffin they can help it.

  4. Where the hell is Kissy Gay from? And if that’s your real name, your parents are pretty insensitive (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

    Pick up lines, guys hitting on girls…blah blah blah… That’s only been around since the beginning of evolution. Just be grateful you aren’t a praying mantis.

    Let’s get to the real issue here. Prunes. I will try to be tactful here but frankly Brian I can’t back you up on this one. Have you even HAD a FRESH PRUNE before, or are you Comparing Apples To…uh…those shriveled dried up things you see that call themselves prunes, or maybe prune juice which most of us associate with geriatric wards? Apples get all the glory, but let’s be honest with ourselves here — they are not one of the tastier fruits, no less foods. And take a look at their nutritional info; apple a day my ___; you’d have to eat about 25 apples just to get your recommended daily allowance of ANYTHING. (Yeah, yeah, they have a few antioxidants. But give me a pomegranate. Now that’s a fruit that could kick a prune’s ___.)

  5. I agree, prunes are good. But I thought the prune industry changed their name to “dried plums” because prunes make people think of old people which is unappetizing. I was confused when I could no longer find prunes. I didn’t even know they were dried plums. I never cared, I liked them they way they were. Oh and it’s actually Kissy McGay. From New Mexico.

  6. “They may take ewwr lives, but thay’ll nayver take the Mc from in front of ewwr neeyymes!”

    I didn’t know there was a prune industry. I always pictured them growing somewhere, maybe underground like potatoes — no idea. If that was the case, scientists and stuff would be in charge of changing their name, right? Maybe Brian’s problem is that he tried a Model T prune. Maybe he needs to try a 2006 Ferrari.

    Do you think Prunus americana is the Cadillac of Prunes?

    Here’s some propaganda from the prune industry —

    1 2 3 4

    The prune industry will stop at nothing. Do you know the real reason we are in Iraq? So that the prune industry can sell prunes to the Iraqis. And I never go out in public without my tinfoil hat, because the prune industry would like nothing better than to read my thoughts to figure out what I would pay for a prune. (Or should I call it “dried plum”!? Sneaky bastards.)

    I was abducted the other day by the prune industry. They prodded me with all kinds of weird instruments, and I haven’t been able to walk straight since.

    Damn you, prune industry! Damn you to hell! In a few millennia Charlton Heston is going to land on the Planet of Prunes, then stumble on the ruins of the Statue of Liberty. “Oh MY God, you BLEW IT UP!”

    Still, prunes are tasty. Brian is all turned around on prunes.

    prunes and apples live together in perfect harmony side by side in my yogurt; oh lord why can’t we?

    “Et tu, Prunus!?”
    –Julius Caesar

  7. I am saddened to learn of the unconscionable acts of the powerful prune industry. It seems they are everwhere. And yet, I cannot imagine a life without prunes. I guess Brian would have me eat apples. As is one could even compare.

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