Spinach Is Evil.

So in my recent bid to get healthy, eat more fibre, and generally overhaul my life, I’ve started again with the salads for dinner. I tell the kids I’ll pay them five bucks if I don’t have a salad during the 6:30 class. They like the chance to make money, since they a) don’t have jobs and b) know my fondness for chocolate chip cookies.

However, today I didn’t have time to make my salad, so I just bought one of those big boxes of organic, pre-washed spinach, figuring I’d add my own dressing, and voila! Instant delicious salad dinner.

No dice. The spinach made my tongue hurt, kind of like I’d lacerated it with very fine-grit sandpaper. Spinach hates me.

That’s okay. I hate it, too.

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