I tried some kombucha the other day (this link might prove illuminating), and it was as disgusting as I had hoped. And by disgusting, I mean I totally hate it, yet I can’t stop drinking it. It is like a vile tincture of feline urine infused with vinegar and carbonated. But I want to marry it and have its little spores. That’s no fungus, he’s my lichen!
I’m going to make my own because my sister is going to give me some of her culture. Or if her poor alien is not up to it, I found a place where internet wackaloons will send me one for only the cost of shipping. I’ll have Zellweger tend a 5-gallon tub of it ’round the clock! Then I can stop giving these people all my lunch money. You know something’s good when the FAQ includes the question “So what are those little floaties, anyway?”
Also, I see that neither Biscuit is online right now, which means hell is freezing over, or their ybab has finally decided to outsource itself. To make sure, I am going to call their house and ask annoying questions.
Are you just me in a dress? I had the exact same reaction to kombucha. Even now, when I drink my daily bottle, you would think I’m sucking a lemon from the look on my face. It’s nauseating, but I just can’t stop.
Isn’t it heinous? I love it!
I am not wearing a dress.
hell must be freezing over because the ybab hostage crisis continues unabated. “Shouldn’t you walk around more?” asks husband.
Maybe I am you in a dress.
I think kombucha is like delicious fizzy lemonade…except, y’know, disgusting.
I get mine from the soup kitchen. They have cases of the stuff and everyone knows it cruel to give it to the homeless.