Snarkeling

Just beneath the surface of normal


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Return of Dicktater

Somewhere, my friends, there is a pornographic sweet potato farm, and Whole Foods has bought exclusive rights (if you have no idea what I’m talking about, new readers, this has happened before. Now it’s somehow an industry). In what may be one of the stranger sentences I’ve ever uttered, I can no longer buy sweet potatoes without getting sort of confusingly turned on.

I defy you to contradict me:

son of dicktater

Son of Dicktater: bigger, straighter, more…veiny. I am not entirely comfortable with chopping that up to roast.

…veiny?

big veiny

Seriously. Veiny sweet potatoes. How does that even happen? I really don’t think that’s how tubers’ circulatory systems work. It’s not even suggestive, it’s just a scary ‘roid-neck tater. But VEINS!

And lastly, y’all, – and I think this proves that I’m not just making up some kind of weird tuberous conspiracy theory – I give you:

IMG_20160305_210604518.jpg

Where do baby dicktaters come from? Why, vagtater poontato, of course!

To be fair, that last one could also be Our Lady of Guadalupe.

But I don’t think it is.

 

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