Imagine slicing into a juicy watermelon on a hot summer day, only to find it has spontaneously exploded, releasing swarms of maggots and a foul odor so potent it could singe your nose hairs.
One plump beauty, neatly placed on an amber-hued marble countertop, was foaming at the mouth. Or the rear. It’s hard to tell which end is which with melons. Need a news break? Check out the all new ...
I met her when I was walking around the produce section holding a watermelon like it was my pregnant belly; I heard a pleasant voice behind me say, “Don’t get too attached to that or you won’t eat it.
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