I hate jello

It’s disgusting. It wiggles, jiggles, bounces light, tastes like plastic, typically topped with that fake whipped cream. It’s wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

When I was six I had food poisoning and spent 6 days in hospital. After two days without food, I was allowed to eat jello. For breakast. For lunch. For supper. A different coloured pile of jello cubes three times a day for four awful days. It took me an hour to chew/swallow a handfull of measly cubes of jello. The nurses thought I was nuts. “What kid doesn’t like jello?” they’d ask me when I would whine and beg for cereal, oatmeal, a cheese sandwich, good grief, anything but jello.

Who invented jello? What sick twisted mind figured blending the collagen from cows tendons with bright bright dye would make a tasty dessert treat?

Or, have you ever had a plate of salad, really it’s fruit stuck in some kind of homeostatis within the gelatin. Hideous!

Green jello? Check out this recipe – it looks like molded vomit:

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