Monday, September 04, 2006
I'm still collecting non-sexual stories involving fruit. For example. Kevin Killian says that he ran over a bag in a parking lot. At first, he was worried that it was a baby, but it turned out to be a pineapple. Most of you have heard my story about the time I had a tastey hami melon thrown at me on the street in Beijing. Stuff like that. Anything? Anybody?
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11 comments:
mut it violently involve fruit?
is tomato a fruit? maureen has tomato stories.
i have stories involving fruit but i will have to think about how to relay them.
When i was a baby my dad found me in front of the barn playing in the dirt. My dad came over to see what I was chewing on. "Raisins," I said holding up a handful of goat poop pelets.
Yay Mike! THanks for your story.
Hey Jessica--no doesn't have to be violent or traumatic, but it can't be completely benign and it can't be overly sexual.
Tomatoes are fruits!
hahaha, that last 'fruit' story is hilarious!
what about cherry stone poops? that's the first thing I thought of when reading this. i thought i taught Stella to take the stones out, and well wasn't successful as i later learned...what goes in must come out!
well, knowing me, lorraine, you know all my fruit stories are impressionistic and romantic. i'll have to think if i have any usable ones.
mmm... approaching that... my friend jeannie and i when we were 7, we made crabapple juice. because we didn't want to make lemonade like all the other silly kids. there was a crabtree down the street, which happened to also be the yard with the good hill for rolling down, but a grumpy man lived there and sometimes he yelled at us for rolling down his hill. so we went and knocked and asked him for his crabapples and he said we could have some but that if we sold crabapple juice we would have to give him part of the profits (you know, looking back at it, i think he mustve been a grad student. early 30s, grumpy, glasses, thin, lived alone, home all the time, sarcastic...). We said we would and we picked up the crabapples and took them home and mashed them up in a pitcher and mixed it with water and whatdaya know, it was awful. i think we tried to sell it anyway but no one was that gullible.
not like the time when we sold acorns (to feed your squirrels) (granted, you could pick up acorns off your own yard for free) for 5¢ and people did actually buy them. hard to resist two little blond girls selling acorns for one's squirrels (this reminds me that we should go on tour reading poetry, L).
i have a story about watermelon.
peppercorns are fruit, right? as a toddler i climbed onto the kitchen table and upended a box of ground black pepper (those big red-n-white ones with the rotating spouts) into my mouth. i began to cry because it was burning. my mother eventually helped me out. but first she took pictures! (i still love pepper & all things spicy.)
Hi Kim!
I owe you an email.
A most excellent fruit story!
shanna, sometimes i think we must be related, with our sourthern heritage and weird religious family members. once i was little and i cut myself, and my mom told me not to bleed on the carpet.
not as bad, however, as when my dad made cheese dip to eat while watching a football game while he was in high school, and he dropped the dish and it shattered on the rug in the kitchen (my grandfather was maniacal about rugs. a rug in the kitchen? i mean whose fault is that?) and gashed his hand, and his mom made him drive himself to the hospital because she was so mad about the cheese sauce on the rug. (he eventually had to clean that up too.)
Ah, shattering and spilling stories! A whole other genre, but very worthwhile.
Ah, shattering and spilling stories! A whole other genre, but very worthwhile.
where I grew up there was a pear tree in the back yard. one day all the pears disappeared. later that day I was walking in the cul-de-sac where all my friends lived and a couple girls who got to go to first base in kick ball even when they made an out. I noticed there were some pears on the ground underneath a mailbox, then I saw the mailbox and newspaper box were full of pears. the girl (dana? jeanette?) had carried them home in her shirt but when she arrived her parents were there so she put the pears in the mailboxes for keeping until her parents left and she could bring them inside.
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