As in hater of raisins. Why, what were you thinking?

Yeah, raisins. I hate them. All of them. Disgusting, wrinkly pieces of protoplasm. Desiccated grapes, that’s all they are. Instead of throwing them away, some eco-terrorist said, “oh hey, I’ll just give them a name, declare them salvageable/essential and then market them.” That trick may have worked with the whole calling mold “penicillin” thing, but when was the last time a raisin cured an ear infection, huh? The only thing I’ve ever seen a raisin do is cause people to throw up a little bit in their mouths.

To all the people out there calling raisins “nature’s candy,” I’ve got a question: Have you ever actually tasted candy? Have you ever even looked at a piece of candy?  Last time I checked, no candy out there resembled Matthew McConaughey’s leathery, sun burnt face. Yeah, I said it; Matthew McConaughey looks like a raisin. Even in Interstellar, traveling in space and through black holes and being all heroic and shit, he still could play a California Raisin without any CGI. Even Christopher Nolan can’t fix that.

Who would want to eat something with the texture of a deflated balloon and the taste of something that already rotted? What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? A dream deferred is tragedy enough; the raisin thing is truly cruel. And don’t get me started on Craisins. Why, cranberry growers of America, why? Stick to your juice-product. All that added sugar and they still taste like their dried-turd progenitors.  

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