Bananas are the comedy turn of the fruit and veg world. They wear pyjamas and come down the stairs, people slip on them in an 'hilarious' fashion and of course they look a bit like willies. Bananas are nice, bananas are friendly, bananas are a bit naughty.
However an event of iconoclastic proportions has occurred which has changed my view of bananas for ever. A friend told me this week that she parted her bunch (of bananas you perves!!!!!) and discovered a big cocoon of spiders web. Worst still an empty cocoon. Where had its spidery inhabitant gone? She spent the next few days checking her bed, shoes, baby's cot etc, worried sick that a massive tarantula was at loose in her house.
Sense tells me (and a certain J - which amounts to the same thing really) that they ship the bananas from a long distance and that any nasties are likely to die en route. Also bananas are gassed to preserve them, which will also kill any horrid passengers. Yet who is to say there aren't some of our eight legged friends who get off on the gas, who literally get stronger and wilder like arachnids on steroids or go crazy and hallucinate like creepy crawlies on ketamine.
With this awful thought in mind, I approached my own bananas with trepidation. When you think about it, the idea of a banana coming down the stairs with pyjamas on is quite scary. Imagine them all yellow and bent over, and potentially harbouring a huge tarantula, coming down your stairs wearing stripey nightware. The horror, the horror! Yes, I'll have no bananas!
However an event of iconoclastic proportions has occurred which has changed my view of bananas for ever. A friend told me this week that she parted her bunch (of bananas you perves!!!!!) and discovered a big cocoon of spiders web. Worst still an empty cocoon. Where had its spidery inhabitant gone? She spent the next few days checking her bed, shoes, baby's cot etc, worried sick that a massive tarantula was at loose in her house.
Sense tells me (and a certain J - which amounts to the same thing really) that they ship the bananas from a long distance and that any nasties are likely to die en route. Also bananas are gassed to preserve them, which will also kill any horrid passengers. Yet who is to say there aren't some of our eight legged friends who get off on the gas, who literally get stronger and wilder like arachnids on steroids or go crazy and hallucinate like creepy crawlies on ketamine.
With this awful thought in mind, I approached my own bananas with trepidation. When you think about it, the idea of a banana coming down the stairs with pyjamas on is quite scary. Imagine them all yellow and bent over, and potentially harbouring a huge tarantula, coming down your stairs wearing stripey nightware. The horror, the horror! Yes, I'll have no bananas!
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