Why Isn’t Anyone Talking About the Non-Picky Eaters?

 You know who I’m tired of hearing from?     People who aren’t picky eaters.


Yeah, you. The “I’ll eat anything” crowd. The “you have to try it once” weirdos. The people who casually drop phrases like, “It’s actually not bad if you don’t think about the fact that it’s a goat eyeball.”


Why do I get judged for not wanting to eat something that smells like a cursed science project, but they get praised for licking cow tongue like it’s gourmet?



I’m sorry, but if your plate looks like it came from a Fear Factor challenge, don’t look down on me for ordering chicken tenders and fries. I’m not five — I just have standards.


Being a picky eater isn’t a phase. It’s part of my soul. It’s how I was born, raised, and how I plan to die — hopefully without ever accidentally biting into someone’s boiled liver.


You can have your sushi with the raw egg and mystery tentacles. I’ll be over here happily dipping my safe, recognizable food into ketchup like a sane person.


So no, I don’t want to “just try a bite.” I don’t want to “expand my palate.” And I definitely don’t want to eat something that used to have eyelashes!


You eat your pickled squid eggs or whatever. I’ll be over here, enjoying the food I actually like, without needing a TED Talk on why I’m missing out.


Picky eaters unite. We may be judged, but at least we’re not voluntarily chewing on organs.



If I made you laugh, cringe, or question your entire existence—consider tossing a tip my way.

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