Dogette, in a comment to this post, asked what was going on with canned peas. I take such questions seriously, particularly when they come from Dogette. Accordingly, I made a special stop at the supermarket tonight to listen in, and here’s what I heard. It ain’t pretty, Peeps.

Le Sueur Peas: Hello there, mon ami.

Regular Old Canned Peas: Huh? What is this mon ami shit?

Le Sueur Peas: We’re French, Bro. Check out the label: “Le Sueur.”

Regular Old Canned Peas: Yo, I have a serious case of the ass with France and with French people.

Le Sueur Peas: Why is that?

Regular Old Canned Peas: Glad you asked. Here’s the short list. Your language, although loved by many, when spoken, sounds like someone is puking; your sidewalks are covered with dog shit; your average woman has hairy armpits and putrid body odor; you make very shitty cars; you regularly surrender to Germans and whomever feels like kicking your asses at any given time; Americans rescued your sorry asses a couple times and yet, to this day, you pretend not to understand us when we try to speak your rotten language. How’s that?

Le Seur Peas: I figure that you’re just bitter, because our President has a hot wife and your President’s wife looks like a Yeti who always looks like she was dressed by a blind person, or someone who celebrates Halloween every day.

Regular Old Canned Peas: OK, ya got me.

The End.