So I got an email yesterday (no, not a spam email) from a reader wanting to know if I could spot what was wrong with this potato photo. Well duh. I’m not always a moron. Of course I can tell what the fuck is off about that photo. THERE’S TWO OLIVES LURKING IN IT.
Someone needs to call the cops because those olives are straight up STALKING those potatoes. Look at those little creeps, trying to blend into the background, sneaking around in muted earth tones, hiding amongst their potato idols in their circular camouflage. I’m not going to stand for that shit, Olives. No one invited you to our potato party. If I’m willing to drop that sad, little baby Sweet Potato like an obstetrician with bad hands, do you really think I won’t drop kick your miscreant manzanilla ass out of here?
Did you even ask those potatoes if you could tag along with them? DON’T LIE TO ME OLIVES, YOU DIRTY IMPOSTORS, YOU. No, you didn’t. You just showed up. That’s so not chill. That’s not even close to chill. It’s not hot either. It’s just weird and uncomfortable. DON’T DO THAT.
Someday we might invite you to the party, Olives. But until then, you need to not just show up where you’re uninvited. You need to respect every potato’s personal space. You need to not be creeps. It’s really not that hard to figure out.
If you’ve got potatoes you want me to look at, email them to firstname.lastname@example.org.