Ain’t no one got time for that shit.

I’m starting in on the first banana on the way home from the store. Gotta be quick with those fuckers. Otherwise it’s a day later and you’re like “welp, gotta make bread I guess.” Eyes tearing up. It’s like a funeral for those little bitches.

You’re tempted to switch these with a fresh one from the store if you have any kids in the house, like you did when the goldfish died. I can’t tell a kid the banana went to go live on a farm upstate.