What exactly are pickle jar confessions you ask?.... Well, I'm not really sure. But I do know it can be used as a metaphor for almost anything. I suppose I have harped on about Regina Spektor's song Reading Time with Pickle long enough; so, the next best thing was to create my own blog about pickles: pickle jars to be exact. No, I am not just talking about any old jar, it is specifically a jar for pickles. It could be empty... It could be sloshing out pickle juice it is so full. But despite it's various states, it is a pickle jar none the less. There is no one pickle jar alike, just like there is no anything exactly alike...But pickle jars all have similarities in common: they are glass, and filled with green pickled cucumbers.
What's not to love?.... Unless of course you don't like pickles... But then again please remember, this blog is not about pickles, this blog is about jars. And who doesn't like jars?... Well, I guess, why wouldn't anyone like jars?....And for that matter, this blog is about how I relate things to jars of pickles. So all the more reason it is irrelevent to reading this blog whether you like pickles or even pickle jars. The only reason you might not find anything to love about this blog is me. And that's o.k.. Some other pickle out in the world will find me loveable and you will find some pickle that you will find irresistable and then this silly question of "what's not to love" will be unimportant. Who cares, if there's something to love or not love.. Well, I do. And that's why I don't buy every pickle jar, and neither should you.
Well, my delectable readers, I am off to go marinate in my vinegar-y thought bubble. If you should see me and my pruny fingers, well..... Then you'll know why I have pruny fingers, won't you?
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