Beans Belong in a Bag

Beans, beans, the magical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot... I don't know what I hate more, beans or the fact that they have a song. No one else gets a song. "Peas, peas, the horrible mush, the more you eat, the more you wish you were dead" just doesn't have the same ring to it. Probably because you don't get the same gastrointestinal results. Nothing like a good toot to inspire a little ditty. Hey, did someone fart? Let's sing about it! But first let's find out where farts come from. Well, I had four cans of beans just now. No shit? Not yet! Heh-heh. Mostly air at this point, sort of a tooting sound if you must know...let's sing about it! Okay! Beans, beans, the magical fruit, the more you eat, the more you toot! I think you have to dance a little, too, and given my knack for interpreting lyrics, you can imagine the finish I put on that one. I am not a fan of the bean. Similar consistency to a pea in my mind, so I don't eat beans. I find the texture too pasty and the taste not too tasty. Whoa....I feel my own little song coming on. I might have to call Fergolicious. I don't like beans in chili or baked beans or beans from a can. Yes, I've tried them all. I will eat fresh green beans and green bean casserole. I enjoy a good fried green bean because anything fried is worth a shot. Except fried peas and fried non-green beans. And refried beans. Refried beans look like they've had a lot of things re-done to them, the least of which is frying and then frying again. There's no delicious coating of batter. In some cases, there's not even a resemblance to beans. It's just a swath of brown wiped on your plate or your tortilla that won't change much passing through your 28 feet of intestines. That makes me hesitate to send it through in the first place. What's the point? Maybe along the way, these mysteriously twice-fried beans motivate other foods to pick up the pace. Follow me, I know the way out! Maybe they magically convert the chips and salsa you just wolfed down into a gas you can gently blow out the other end. Despite that glorious payoff, I just can't bring myself to ingest brown slop. I've come a long way in the bean department, however, as I recently ate several black beans and did not sound the alarm (well, minutes later there was an alarm of sorts). They were in one of my favorite salads, the Quesadilla Explosion, and I'm fairly certain they have made cameos in other Mexican dishes I've enjoyed. I don't mind the renegade black bean, but I will not eat them en masse spooned in a sauce on my plate next to the rice. I just shuddered. I hate it when they encroach on the rice! I don't know if I'll ever develop an appreciation for the bean. I think it would have to be in some sort of romantic setting where I'm a cowboy out West traveling via covered wagon and me and the boys are down to just the one can of beans. We've been riding for days and there's no Wendy's in sight. Even then I'd shoot and eat the horse first. Or one of the boys. Probably the one who makes the coffee. I don't like those beans, either.