trust your spidey sense.

I was totally grossed out this holiday. When I say 'totally', I mean it in the way a mall brat means it. Totally! As I fulfilled my duty as a holiday bum should, I overindulged on all that was considered food. One particular item I enjoyed were a seemingly limitless supply of pistachio nuts. I swear that bowl kept on replenishing its self. Do pistachios reproduce? Maybe I finally have proof that Spontaneous Generation does kick Darwin in the ass. Anyway, I stuffed my face as one does with pistachios. No one who likes pistachios slows down. Its all shell and pop, baby. As I grabbed the next victim, I sensed a disturbance in the force. Something slowed my hand and doubted the purity of the upcoming morsel. From the shell, it looked normal, ugly, like all pistachios. When I shelled it, my spidey sense instructed me to turn it over and BAM! AHHHHH! A fat worm was embedded in it! How many worms have I eaten in my pistachio days!?! Why is my love for food constantly being tested!?! I am a very wary pistachio enthusiast now. The pistachio magic of "shell and pop" is gone. I now inspect each one with stringent quality control. This once pistachio optimist has been reduced to a pistachio pessimist.