Chopping Broccoli

Lobbing a softball and playing right into the hands of my co-racist co-workers I will oft have a baked potato for lunch to the background mood music tauntings of...

"Look Donkey's eating a potato..... SHOCKER!"

I usually go with a plain-n-broccoli which admittedly doesnt make any sense at all and considering I don't really like broccoli all that much I'm not entirely sure if I do so to exact revenge on Bush I for raising taxes or that it gives me a bonafide reason to make an ass of myself by publicly singing the Dana Carvey classic in the aforementioned title on the way back to my office.

There's a lady I know
If I didn't know her
She'd be the lady I didn't know
She's chopping broccoli
broccoli.....
broccola-ah-ie!

Partly because I am certifiably insane and partly because I am genuinely a gregarious fellow I engage those with whom I conduct my daily goings in more than the usual mundane small talk. Now today being no exception and with the Irish in me thinking myself quite the potato expert and the American in me feeling as if its my duty to share said expertise I went about offering some friendly business advice to my local tubermonger.

I explained to him that considering this Country's past dealings with the monarchy and that the neighborhood seems to be overwhelmingly female that he should change the name from The Potato King to The Spud Stud and make some outlandish claim about zero carbs or being fat free or what have you.

That decision was not his to make he explained.

Apparently the feudal system is alive and well in the Solanum Tuberosum Kingdom as he informed me that he leases.