We had an abundance of fruit in Honolulu, of course. Oranges, pine-apples, bananas, strawberries, lemons, limes, mangoes, guavas, melons, and a rare and curious luxury called the chirimoya, which is deliciousness itself. Then there is the tamarind. I thought tamarinds were made to eat, but that was probably not the idea. I ate several, and it seemed to me that they were rather sour that year. They pursed up my lips, till they resembled the stem-end of a tomato, and I had to take my sustenance through a quill for twenty-four hours.
They sharpened my teeth till I could have shaved with them, and gave them a “wire edge” that I was afraid would stay; but a citizen said “no, it will come off when the enamel does”— which was comforting, at any rate. I found, afterward, that only strangers eat tamarinds — but they only eat them once.
Great. Now I need a new Cute meter.
“Oh, Hawai’i’s guy, huh?”
Oh, it’s one of those Poking Mom creature’s that were popular when I was a kid.
I dare Biden’s handlers to tell him he has to wear this to a press conference. I double-dog dare them.
Just keep him away from my pizza.
This is cute but it reminds me how pain in the arse (lol spellcheck thought I was trying to say arsenal) it is to cut up a pineapple.
An admitted aside, but this is a humor site:
Mark Twain on exotic fruits:
“Ha! Can’t sniff him, Mr. President!”
“Oh, great — now we have to revise all the federal statutes to include kids who identify as pineapples!”
Grenade Week at Fort Bragg…
MY NIGHTMARE IS COMING TO LIFE!!!
Oompah-Loompah, Hawaiian style…
A young Joe Biden, transitioning to the potted plant he is today.