Last week, I went to a banana plantation, where they produce bananas for Chiquita. It was a neat tour, although I felt a little bit like I was watching Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. "Okay kids, today we are going to see how bananas are made." My favorite part? The authentic blue-and-yellow Chiquita sticker I received at the end of the tour. I don't think the Hondurans quite understood why we North Americans found this so exciting.
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Seriously, the woman behind you in the sticker picture on your forehead looks like she's at the end of a brutal 14-hour, six-day shift.
And uh, when did Iowa cornfields get mosquitos or well, that tall either?
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