I hate salad.
Well, actually, it's pretty ok when it's fresh. And I often purchase it from the store for myself. It one of the most effective conduits for ranch dressing known to man. And by man, I mean in particular this man, because it would be exceedingly vain and inaccurate to say that I possess all the knowledge of the uses of ranch dressing known to the whole of the human race, but certainly my knowledge is sufficient for my purposes. It also goes on pizza rolls. Ok, it mostly goes on pizza rolls, and salad is mainly a good excuse. Which may explain why it sits in the fridge for a week after I open it, slowly having bits taken out and added to samwiches while the main body slowly turns to something like Kimchi. Which I hate. And then I have that last bit that goes into a bowl, and I look at it and wonder “why do humans eat this?” Which is no where near as dangerous or potent as Kimchi, but still not a very good substitute for food. This is why I hate salad.
I concur wholeheartedly. Which is why I use spinach instead. Spinach salad with hot russian dressing. I may not be a sailor, TOOT! TOOT! anyway.
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