I cannot make friends with you. I just can’t.
I’ve tried eating you in salads, juicing you and making chips out of you.
Recently I had a “Super Food Salad” from a local cafe and got lock jaw halfway through. This shit is TOUGH!
The only reason this is a “super food” is because you will lose about nine kilos if you manage to eat a bowl of it. It will take you about three days and you will probably die of exhaustion before finishing.
Juicing kale is fruitless because you’ll need a whole bunch (not cheap) to get about 10ml. And it will make the rest of your juice taste like a forest.
Chips are just as painful because they disintegrate as soon as you put them near your mouth. If you are “lucky” you might get a few shards of crispy kale but you’ll need a bloody good vacuum cleaner to get it all off your floors. Pointless.
Super Food? Super Fuck You.
FUCK YOU Hako Japanese restaurant.
I’m trying to have a fun dinner with a friend from interstate.
We get seduced by you partly because you are in a cute part of town and partly because you are looking busy on a monday night.
But heavens to betsy, what the actual FUCK is going on with your pricing strategy.
The worst part of your overpriced average food was the tuna maki hand roll. 6 tiny pieces for $16? For that price I want to be eating it off a naked Geisha.
We had pickles. Tasty. Hard to fuck that up.
A BBQ pork bun. Delicious but literally one bite for $7
Rice ball with cheese. Bit more substantial for $9. Maybe four bites.
Next was eggplant miso. Good but we are ready to eat the chopsticks at this stage.
Finally half an hour after that was four tempura prawns in pastry for $25.50
Two drinks and it all came to $103.50
We were ready for some kind of hamburger and some counselling to get over being ripped off so badly. Not happy!
The upside? Struggling to find one, but perhaps the ketosis brought on by the extreme hunger between courses.
FUCK YOU sex hippies from Byron Bay.
You are the worst thing about this horrific “Instafamous” trend.
Nobody cares that you are shagging in a pile of paint, or walking naked across the sand dunes to “explore your sexuality”. C’mon. It’s painfully fucking obvious you are getting paid by the fake tan company to sit there with your arse out, filtered to within an inch of your lives.
Have some of my fucking kale and piss off.