Orange is not the only fruit.

This is a warning to all, never bring your favourite food into the bedroom.

For one, every time you look at it you will always be reminded of said sex and if you are still on good terms with this person then you can’t walk down the fruit aisle without feeling horny. And two, if you are on bad terms with the person you will now hate the food and feel like it’s constantly mocking you on your visit to the local supermarket. And, trust me, being mocked by food isn’t a nice feeling. One day you’ll be walking down the fruit aisle, the next you’ll be screaming at a pineapple in the middle of Morrison’s- and when you have been arrested you’ll remember this tale and think WHY?!?!?

Before you all start judging, the fruit in question were in fact blueberries, not a pineapple- I did not do a Kinga from Big Brother (although, that was amazing). If only I hadn’t tried to be sexy and cute with a blueberry – punnets would still line my fridge getting mouldier by the day. Now the sheer thought of them makes me feel queasy. I’ve essentially had to break up with a fruit… the only time this has happened was when I was dating a guy whose brain resembled a mouldy pear which had been left out in the sun for too long. Either way, fruit ditching is not high on my bucket list and I’m highly unlikely to be using fruit anytime soon besides my own melons. Just do what normal people do and use ice cream… preferably vanilla because it’s less sticky and you’ll get over it faster.