brussels sprouts on a what now?

I usually buy disengaged brussels sprouts. what i mean to say is they are no longer part of any sort of growing mechanism, but rather they are in a neat little plastic container. they are little nuggets of baby green cabbage looking things ready and willing and so excited for me to roast the motherfucking shit out of them. they crave it. but that's not how i found them today, not at the food emporium. they were in a form totally unknown to me. they looked like this:

THEY WERE ON A BRANCH.

I was angry, incensed even. I shrugged my shoulders and tried to start over again- rationality in check. I would see these nugs for the truth and beauty they exuded not through my distorted image of anything in high quantities equating to grotesqueness. FAIL.

I tried this: these are creatures of the earth who mean me no harm. I grinned lovingly, even a little passionately. But then I was like, WHY do there have to be so many? Probably I started to question their motives-- herd mentality always seems dishonest, conniving. And then I was like: No. No. You ARE foul and absurd; you DO make me ill. I felt nauseous, I'm telling you my finger there is holding back bile. So, that's when I ENTIRELY ditched the mother earth routine and reality set in. I was incensed, actually, that is me overtly disgusted.


That's when I roasted them harder than I ever have. Ever have and ever will. Cause there will be NO branches of brussels in MY house EVER, ever again.