Today, I discovered the avocado.

The avocado, I have established, is a delicious capsule of other-wordly-goodness. The disturbing… yet titillating… yellow-green be-mushed innards of this fantastical thing both horrify me — and captivate me all in the same… irreversibly faklempt moment of MUST. EAT. THIS. desire.

I have officially consumed twelve avocados in the past three hours.

I do not regret this decision.

My sudden predilection to be overwhelmed by the avocado… this… thing… this FRUIT-object that resembles an ALIEN POD, spawned by some kind of Saturn-inspired gremlin and yet TASTES like Zephelogeretes himself crafted it out of a warped, oversized pea and sheer Walt Disney-inspired-Fantasia-pegasus magic…

My!

I love the avocado. I love it for all of its imperfections, its strange — dimply skin that would be grotesque if homogenized to the face of an adolescent — but on the avocado it’s… wonderfully, disagreeably perfect, an absurd husk of occasionally peeled bewilderment.

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