Isn’t it embarrassing enough going to Wal Mart to buy beans? I imagine a society in which beans may not legally be sold to children, and the only way to purchase them at most stores is to tell an attendant to get them for you. “Pardon me, my good cashiersman, but I require Beanee Weenee posthaste. And how! Do not tarry in rendering the product unto me! I have seen you tarry on past occasions and today that simply will not do.”

Wouldn’t it make more sense for a fish to wear a helmet over its ah snout than the top of its head, if a fish were to wear a helmet at all? In the event of a loss of control fish don’t really fall, they just keep going forward. Stupid fish. This fish, by the name of “Finn,” has also committed other questionable acts.
I can’t even work my way far down this image enough to wonder how the fish is operating that tiny bicycle or what the wheels are turning against to generate propulsion.

In the cold section at a Walgreens, or a CVS, or some other such place where a reasonable person should not be buying groceries:

Why bother freezing it? That stuff is 100% preservative. It makes packaged faddulous diet nonsense look palatable by comparison.
My problem with lunchables isn’t that they’re “lazy;” they aren’t any less so than Pop Tarts and bagels and people act satisfied with that junk all the time. Which actually is my problem, just not today. My current problems with lunchables are that they have tiny portions and must surely be really gross. I brought lunches to schools from my home every day applicable because I hated the small, gross things the school had and also the very idea that I might pay money for them. Hours in advance (Some people paid for whole weeks at once, which to me seemed and seems outright foolish even if you usually like that sort of thing). As long as a monetary transaction was taking place, I must have reasoned, I should get a pizza. A real pizza, I mean. Why call that rubbish “pizza” when it so obviously isn’t and dumb kids are buying your bad lunches anyway? Have some dignity. No, not the curious orange lump that comes with the ‘B’ lunch.

There has been much popular lore regarding the criminally awful food like things presented in schools, yet people still eat them. To do so is a skill I have always lacked. I’m probably luckier than I realize.

But lunchables! If my mother, a person fairly well acquainted with me and who wasn’t preparing mealoids for 500 other brats

let me get stuck with the same sort of thing as the cafetorium produced except colder (or sausage) I’d… I’d… just not eat it. And then some yak at the school would force one of its lunches on me, and then I wouldn’t eat that, like I said I wouldn’t, and then someone would call my house later saying we owed them two dollars, and I would be shamed for life. That would be dreadful.