Pick your own…

Posted: July 22, 2012 in Publishing

The sun is out. This is a very rare thing here in England. So every one heads out to enjoy it. Burning themselves to a crisp. Seattle in America has the highest suicide rate in the country. They say it is because it gets the most rain in the country. That’s how they justify it ‘We get the most rain!’ Yeah? Well imagine a whole fucking country that rains all the time. Subsequent days after British sun, will look like snowfall from the flakes of dead, dried, cooked skin blowing through the wind like a blizzard. Most of the population will be in agony form sunburn. If the sun is out the following day, they will still bask in it to top up their melanoma. I’ve been hitting the keyboard pretty hard, with film stuff and work on the second book. So Sophie, my other half and whom some call ‘my carer’ decided to surprise me with a fun day. A ‘fun day’. Sophie thinks I work hard. Because I tell her I work hard. I don’t work hard. To me, a fun day is on a lawn chair with beer.
Saturday came and I was told ‘Come on – were going to go pick your own, it will be fun’
Waa… what?”
“Pick your own strawberries. It’ll be fun.” I don’t know what happened. Seconds later, I’m in a field.

Pick. Your. Own. Whoever invented pick your own was a fucking GENIUS. People PAY to do the work. Let me just say, right off the bat, pick your own is not fucking fun. It is work. You can’t even get illegal immigrants do this shit. Picking fucking strawberries. A massive field, full of stupid little fucking strawberry plants that are a few inches off the ground. It’s back breaking work. Where is the fucking fun in that? I guarantee illegal immigrants from war torn countries, desperate to send money home to save loved ones. Who have endured the worst conditions possible to smuggle themselves to England went “Fuck this shit – momma can go hungry, I’d rather go home and get shot than pick another strawberry!” Leaving farmers with fields full of un-harvested strawberries. Then, one of farmers said “You know what, people are thick as fuck. Lets charge them to pick the strawberries themselves… then make them pay for them again!” Motherfuckers.

I can buy a punnet of strawberries in the supermarket for £2. Or, spend the best part of a day bent over in a field, picking half a punnet of my own slug eaten, shitty, strawberries for £3.60. It’s not like going into the supermarket either. I know supermarkets get a tough time for working practices and stuff. But you can walk in, grab a punnet of strawberries ‘Got some!’ and some beer, and go. After 4 hours of ‘Pick your own’ you’ve got 11 strawberries. That’s not even enough for a fucking cup cake. This isn’t fun, it’s hard labor. I’m in the middle of a field, and I need to take a shit and there is not a toilet for miles.

There is a type of people, who like to do ‘pick your own’ it seems. The ‘rambler ‘I like to look like an apple – a stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet,’ type person. We are in a massive field. I need to shit. All I can think is ‘There has to be a machine to do this! I want my lawn chair and my beer in the fridge. Mr and Mrs outdoors, with a whole field to pick straw-fucking-berries, decide to pick strawberries right next to us. For them it is social. It is making me anti-social. They have not said a word yet, but I hate them already. I can feel Sophie laughing. She knows I’m about to blow.
“Hi” they say.
Me being a grumpy ignorant twat, ignore them.
“Beautiful day isn’t it”
Still nothing from me. Then I see Sophie grinning. She is loving this, and just to piss me off she starts talking to them. Were in a field, not even picking, they are just talking and talking and talking. The guy said, “yeaahh… were on the ‘caveman diet’, amazing for weight loss.
“What?”
“Caveman diet, where you have to forage for your food, like the caveman. The food keeps you thin.”
I actually considered shitting in my hands and throwing it at his face. I’m no expert, but I suspect that if you had to spend six hours of back breaking work, on your knees in a field with a little spoon, scooping Hagen Das into a little fucking tub, you would still drop the pounds mother fucker.

If anyone suggests ‘Pick your own’ tell em to fuck off.

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Comments
  1. Odis Wischman says:

    I prefer the caveman diet because it is a form of low-carb diet but high in protein. For me, this is an ideal diet. ,`*’,

    Kind regards http://www.healthmedicinelab.com“>

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