i broke up with you, icecream! why are you back in my life?! i can't do this with you anymore. it's too much, too soon. a night time frolic with you will cost me later. it may be fun in the moment but i feel it the next day, like a bad hangover. you leave a bittersweet taste in my mouth.
french fries, you are next! don't think i've forgotten about your greasy ways. garlic curly fries, you're the worst. you may be smothered and covered in garlic but you have no nutritional value that will outweigh the fat in you. and you're such a flirt! just because i'm at pluto's getting myself a salad doesn't mean you can come and holler at me. save it for the frying oil cuz this gal is over you. from now on i'm a woman on a mission: straight to the salad bar, no wayward thoughts. the sizzle and hiss of the fries dancing in the oil will only taunt me because i have rejected them. i am true to salad bar and only salad bar.
