>Sleep is overrated.
At least my brain thinks so.

Thus, I blog. This is what I’ve got at 4 am:

I have two favorite fruits. Pomegranates, as I have discussed before, and Asian pears.

Thursday. Pike Place market. Post-job interview (and one that I really, really want…).

As I emerge into the hordes of mindless cattle (otherwise known as tourists), the sea of carbon-based life forms parts long enough for my eyes to fall upon what I can only define as one of those things that you assume must defy all laws of nature. I recoiled in both astounding awe and, I must confess, abject terror.

Permit me to explain.

“Asian pears have a high water content and a crisp, grainy texture, very different from the buttery European varieties. Also, Asian pears are not as intensely sweet, having a more refreshing, light taste. It is not a cross between apples and pears, as common names like apple pear may suggest, but its shape and crisp texture are reminiscent of apples.”

So if you were to use the above human hand as a scale reference, unless this dude was Andre the Giant you would surmise that an Asian pear was roughly the size of a baseball.

Apparently the folks at Pike Place market have other ideas in mind.

I mean…how?? I don’t…I mean, come on…what happened to this damn thing?
The pomegranate is not one of those minuscule, beginning of season waifs…it’s a good size pomegranate, a little bigger than a baseball. But the pear, holy freakin’ cow. Once I saw it, I knew it had to come home with me. A mutated ball of freakishness such as this was far too awesome to stay in a nondescript heap of less astounding fruit unworthy of its wonder.

This damn pear was so freakin’ huge it was difficult for me to grab it out of my backpack one-handed.

One of my housemates dubbed it “Pearzilla”.

Voulez-voulez-vous insomnia, pears, and flying fish.