Shelled Peanut
My friend, we meet again in between the bends. Mighty fine complementary companion that this bowl of shelled peanuts had become. The sports is on in the tavern and I saved a seat for you beside me. I shouldn’t be here but you ain’t ever broke a habit and a routine before. Abandoned by my fermented cereal grain water drinking buddies due to scheduling and conflict of interests. I still show up to the tavern like I got no place to call home. I try not to stay out as late, being out late without good reason is as villainous as a bartender who never drank in his life. You can order a glass of milk from them and they’ll be more giddy from that request than a misprinted mixed drink. I swear this tavern has the best shelled peanuts for some reason, it’s like we are at the ballpark. They let you throw the shells on the floor but I don’t know why. Will people with unpaid tabs rake them up? I read that the University of Mexico says you can use the shells as an air filter. Not sure why the University of Mexico doesn’t sound credible, University of United State Of America doesn’t roll off the tongue either. I’ll believe it when I can smoke a peanut filtered cigarette from the cheap seats. I know the free bowl of peanuts is a trick, a trick based on imposing this urge to order a drink due to the saltiness. The jokes is on them, I can chase it down with cola and the fiber from the peanuts will cancel it out. Time wasting all that is, gift of self worth should be put back behind my face to be able to see the path. I should start taking some home until I have enough to make a tray of peanut brittle. Those irish fellas have beaten me to the punch with that one. Peanut brittle shards is their loophole in the knife laws ya know. If a fight breaks out at the pub, be prepared to meet a salty sweet shive. Imagine going to the hospital and you greet the people at the counter with half a tray of peanut brittle sticking out of your chest. I think you might be able to get an emergency appointment quicker than a guy with a regular knife sticking out their chest because you can bribe the staff with the brittle. Peanuts just happen to follow me throughout my daily life, sixty hour work weeks to afterhours. It’s a guardian angel of some sort, just two goobers tackling tasks! Before, during, and after work it is in my possession. I’m basically death to a kid with nut allergies. Mr. Planters Peanut might be actually be death. I don’t like him, don’t like him one bit. He looks like a slave master! I believe he brings bad days for make a wish kids. He might be american Jimmy Savile, you just don’t have a small monocle and white gloves for no reason. I know for sure that the Nutter Butter Man is guilty of anything brought up on him. That man has eyes of a rapist and promotes cookies that are like files found in a cake, he has spent days in county! I don’t ever want to see him with Mr. Planters Peanut together in a live studio, they’ll be pointing out the peanut gallery one by one. Some days I go with the boiled variant because It’s hot outside and the warm cajun direction it is going for matches my demeanor. Always shelled, I can peel them on my own with my hands. Something about the peanut shell that has a hold of me. We all know that it’s shaped like an eight and the infinity sign. A shelled peanut being shaped like an infinity sign is a flaw and a lie in the world we live in like packing peanuts. Peanuts at best, last a year and a year ain’t touching infinity. Unless if infinity only makes sense when we go stale. Death forces us to end this repeating battle in our heads, ya feel better dead than still wondering if you will be immortal. We all are peanuts in a way, aspiring to reach infinity or immortality. You can be sheltered your whole life like these aspiring shelled peanuts, known for longevity but still fall flat of infinity. These thoughts belong muffled within the private confines of a shelled peanut. Cry all the salt out so the peanut can be salted.