a squash story

Today I bought a lovely butternut squash from the grocery store.

It was love at first sight.  I was so excited to peel my squash and get him roasting that I could barely keep my hands off him the whole car ride home.

But then peeling him turned out to be rather difficult.

I had squash peels ALL OVER me, my kitchen, my ceiling, my bathroom, my windows–they probably even made their way out to plaster the walls of my apartment building.

Obviously frustrated, I attempted to stab my idiot butternut squash with the nearest kitchen knife, but because all my fingers had gotten chopped off during the peeling process, I could only stand there helplessly as I bled to death and cursed my squash into oblivion.

The End.

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2 Responses

  1. This is hilarious! How the heck are you supposed to peel one of those things, anyway? Knife? Peeler thingie?

  2. Comment, Part II
    I think you are supposed to roast it, then peel it. But as I am clueless in the kitchen, you’d better ask your mother or Julia Child…

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