As you get older, sometimes yer tastes change.
Like, when I was a stupid little punkass kid, I hated onions and green peppers, but then, at some point later on in life, I started liking 'em, 'cause turns out they didn't stink half as bad as some of the stuff I had to stick my face into.
And sometimes it works the other way around, too, like, I used to love those cheap-ass frozen fishsticks things, and I could eat shrimp like potato chips, but nowadays I can't stand the smell of that shit, let alone maw down on any kind of waterbug-meat or junk that breathes its own pee.
But its not just food.
See, when I was in highschool, I loved swimming, I was even a varsity conference champion when I was a sophomore.
Yah I walked around in front of a crowd in a speedo with a rubber thing on my head, went outside and smoked cigarettes between my races too, and I could hold my breath forever so that shit they say about smoking being bad for yer health and shit is totally whacked out.
I was even a lifeguard for a while.
But there is no fucking way you could force my ass into a public swimming pool nowadays.
Yah no way man, I mean, I still cringe a little when my little brother's kids run up to me and give me a hug, 'cause they're all sticky and slimy and disgusting and covered in boogers and diseases, last thing I'm gonna do is submerge myself in the bath water of a hundred strangers with all those dead skin cells and ball sweat foam and ass-grease and globs of saliva and hairspray and urine and backwash and toe-cheese and scabs and who the fuck knows what else is floating around in that human soup.
I don't care how slick you think you are, Jeeves, yer gonna be eating gallons of Tim Burton's body-soup, man.
Oh sure, they say hey don't worry, the chlorine kills everything, as if bleached turd-flakes were somehow less awful to swallow.
Fuck that shit man, you might as well be cleaning public toilets with yer tongue and flossing with somebody else's pubic hair, at least then you'll get to eat that tasty-smelling urinal cake for an after-dinner mint.
Damn, I guess waterbug-meat isn't so bad after all, now that I think about it.