Thursday, February 15, 2007

They call it salmonella. Quite rightly!

So you think you’re a tough guy, huh.? Well, I just found that we have some of that poisonous peanut butter. At our house. In our cupboard. Potentially infecting our vanilla extract or our baking soda or our Craisins. I’m sure it’s possible with science. Apparently, any nonsense is.



Don’t believe me?

Lids of jars with a product code beginning "2111" can be returned to ConAgra for a refund, the company said.




Whammo! Right there – 2111-something-something. IN MY HOUSE! Where my wife sleeps and my dog plays with his squeaky octopus toy! Poison!

But I’m not going to take it back to ConAgra. First, I don’t know how. And second, I’m going to keep it and then feed it to my enemies when the come over for finger sandwiches and Lady Baltimore cake. Sure, they probably won’t die but they will think twice about pushing me into the pool at Christy’s birthday party back in 1989.

I will also not stop brushing my teeth with the juice from the bottom of Perdue chicken containers.

2 comments:

adrienne said...

for the first time in my life, I feel morally superior for eating store-brand "natural" peanut butter.

Brunch Bird said...

Why am I imagining The Deer Hunter, but with peanut butter crackers?