Ring out ye bells!
Prithee, ye pupils of the liberal arts, sound the trumpets of love and hasten to the mess hall: the Frary salad of the day yields strawberries abundant. Oh me, oh my —
how fruitful indeed!
These tender eyes grow weepy at the thought of a Frank salad, studded with grapes: sweet beetling morsels of toothsome delight, frolicking through a garden of the spinach’s leafy, luxurious green. A collage of ambrosial heaven. I can’t wait to put ranch dressing on this!
And shall we not speak of the Collins “fruit coleslaw?” This is a real thing that they serve!
Should it happen that thine suppertime salad falls free of fruitage, dear fellows, do not yield thyself to despondency — do not become seized by melancholia. Bell peppers are oft at hand and are technically fruit, or let God strike me down!
Verily. Come lunch, we are all borne anew, cast into giggling cherubs, bathing in the light of nature’s candied pleasures. This salad has mango popping boba AND parmesan cheese are you fucking kidding me
