Asparagus is the devil.


I’m using a writing prompt today from this randomness I found online: 501 Writing Prompts.

Describe a vegetable that you truly dislike.

(A little backstory – I’m sitting out on Gallifrey’s porch with Varenka and reading from this list of prompts aloud and when I read that one she said “Oh god, do that one and write about your love-hate relationship with asparagus” and I went “Love-hate?” and she went “Hate-hate.”)

I loathe asparagus.

Okay, maybe not loathe. I loathe Hitler and Stalin and people who starve puppies.

I have, at best, a complicated relationship with asparagus.

When I was a small child, I was very gullible (okay, I’m still very gullible, but slightly less so).

For example, I thought this was a good look.

For example, I thought this was a good look.

My aunt once told me sharks lived in Lake Erie and I didn’t go swimming for a week. My aunt also once told me that if I hung upside down from my closet rod, I’d grow faster. Also that your ears bleed a lot when you get them pierced.

Actually, come to think about it, it was mostly my aunt who preyed upon my naiveté.

However, in this particular story, it was my American Grandfather who told me that asparagus spears were so named because if you ate them at the wrong angle they would stick in your throat and you would die a horrible painful death.

My family, ladies and gentlemen.

Anyways, since then I haven’t touched the stuff. I think partly because my grandfather psychologically scarred me and partly because asparagus is the devil.

Just me?

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