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Versus: Part One

I have come to the realization that our brains are designed to trick us. They are designed to make us think we are consistent, in control, and then they bitch slap us so hard that all of our five senses start swapping spit. It’s like a form of sadistic entertainment to the eyes of the universe. What I have discovered, to sum it up, is that we have absolutely no idea what we like or don’t like or why. Hear me out.

Evil Brain from Outer Space_001

Because we are all made of stars anyway, right?

This is the simple case study of one human (me), faced with a series of versus tests. The first set that I will share with you involve edibles.

Candy Vs. Bank Suckers

As I have mentioned before, I am not a huge fan of sweets. Not only have I not had a birthday cake since I was too young to know not to stick things up my dog’s butt, but I am also just not a candy person. Before you say anything about chocolate, check yourself. Comparing chocolate to candy is like comparing filet mignon to a hot dog. Chocolate is not candy.

Candy is that artificial sweet, turn my mouth weird colors, get stuck in my teeth, and make me choke on the new thickness of my saliva kind of junk. I don’t like it. You get the point.

So, when I am sitting in the bank queue as my receipt floats back down the magic tube, I peer down into the plastic hovercraft to find a sucker the size of Stuart Little’s umbrella, and I am delighted. Utterly delighted I tell you.

Dum Dums

I can confirm they are appropriately named for the intended target market.

Yeah, that’s right, I got the sucker because I am the nicest and most charming customer on the planet. Definitely not because I am the sucker.

I suavely give the tellers a wink through the glass as I drive past. Then, I even eat the sucker. Down to the stick. Had my roommate walked up to me and handed me a lollipop for no reason, I probably would have grudgingly stared down at the pathetic offering before I smacked it out of her hand and shrieked a forceful, “No!” But bank suckers are just different.

Hotdog Vs. Free Hotdog at Work

The aforementioned isn’t my first offense in the area of edibles versus edibles. Speaking of hot dogs, for example, I wouldn’t particularly say that I hate them. Certainly not as much as my brain thinks I hate candy suckers outside the confines of Capital One, but you also won’t ever find Oscar Mayer hanging around my kitchen. I have even been known to forgo an entire meal at cookouts because of my disdain for hot dogs.

hotdog

Who puts this kind of filth on the internet? Ugh. #smdh

So naturally, when they used to bring us free hot dogs at my old office (for breakfast at that), I would fight with my elbows out. I would fight with grown men. I would lie, steal, and cheat just to make sure I got my hands on one of those delicious free hot dogs. And then I would devour it like. Like that made any sense at all.

Can Coke Vs. Bottle Coke

Finally, something I can talk about that I actually like. Here in the south we call any form of soda a Coke. Want a Sprite? That’s cool. I’ll be right back with your Coke. As I was saying, I have a wonderful relationship with Diet Coke. I don’t care if it is bad for me or if I am voluntarily embalming myself from the inside out. At least I’ll make a pretty corpse.

While I prefer fountain Cokes and Cokes poured into a glass over ice, I don’t discriminate too harshly against canned Coke or even Coke in plastic bottles. In fact, nothing can make Coke worse, but there is something that can make it ten times better.

bottle coke

Please excuse my soda boner.

Put a straw in me, I’m spent. There is nothing better than a Coke in a glass bottle. The straw is just there to blow your mind a little harder. Because it is definitely not the same exact artificially colored, cancer inducing, brown liquid coming from out of those cans, fountains, and plastic bottles. No no, this is different. Better.

Part Two is on deck!

 

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