Artichoke, who do you think you are? You may taste delicious when lathered up in a small farm’s worth of butter. But so much work. You may have a heart, but burying it beneath 68 layers of prickly leaves and a beard? That’s a prick move. Who has time for such foreplay – especially when the amount of edible substance on each leaf barely comprises the word “morsel.” You’re like the anti-Giving Tree. That tree gave everything. You? Nothing. A-hole.
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