Things That Filled Me With Righteous Irritation Today
1. Watermelon cakes.
You know what watermelons aren't? Cake. And you know what they still aren't, even if you cut them into a cake shape and slather them in whipped cream or whipped coconut cream or some such bullshit and decorate them all fancy with kiwi and whatnot? They're still not cake.
And do you know what you rob people of when you slice them up a piece of watermelon cake? You rob them of being able to hold a simple, unadulterated slice of watermelon in their hands, feel the juice run back along their arms to their elbows, and work their way to that bright, cucumbery crunch of rind.
Rather than allow them that prototypical summer joy, you've forced them into a knife-and-fork scenario in which they have to figure out how to get watermelon and cream and various other decorative fruit bits to go into their mouth without getting cream everywhere, and they have to pretend like they enjoy it, which is never better than eating a great slice of watermelon without all that unnecessary fanfare.
2. The term "lady garden" for my junk.
I know my own junk, and I've checked out the junk of a few other females, and none of us, not a single one, have had what I would term a "lady garden". Vulvae are not Victorian or polite, and they are not often flowery sweet, if we're being honest. They are actually kind of mushy, and, if times are good, they can resemble the shoreline of a warm summer swamp. If your "lady garden" definition is broadly inclusive of warm summer swamps, then I might accept the term, but I doubt it does.
If any of you out there do have a polite, Victorian lady garden tossing off sweetness like a home fragrance plugin, we don't want to know. It will just make the rest of us feel bad.
(Some of you may want to point out that I've overlooked the tongue-in-cheek version of "lady garden", but the only person I can think of who could pull off a sarcastic "lady garden" effectively is Tina Fey. The rest of us just sound like we're trying not to look like prudes who can't say vulva in front of other people, but we still totally look like prudes who can't say vulva in front of other people.)
3. The food insanity that has people saying things like "A banana? Isn't that a lot of sugar?"
I told a person over coffee that I ate a banana every day, and they responded "but isn't that a lot of sugar?" I mentioned that I was going out for ngiri sushi on Twitter, and someone I knew piped up with "that's a lot of carbs!" I was once admonished for my completely normal water intake, because "water should come from food if I don't want to flush all the nutrients out of my system."
Everyone can take all their food policing and let it die in a damn fire — here, look, I've built a nice pyre for all of you over here — because bananas are a normal, whole food that are not the equivalent of candy, ngiri sushi is delicious even if it comes with that devil rice, and water is what I drink to stay alive. Nobody cares if you think they're eating the wrong garlic or dying as we speak because they eat raw tomatoes.
I certainly don't care if I'm going to die earlier during my mid-90's dementia than later (based on my family history), not when I have some steaming mashed potatoes over here in which to carve deep butter rivers, mash a dollop of thick sour cream, and glory in all its nightshade-genus, carbohydrate-rich, dairy-ridden glory. Yesssss.