You often hear the melon reference with regards to women’s breasts.  But what about all the forgotten fruits and body parts?  Let us brainstorm.

Today I was having a kiwi for lunch.  I picked one up, gave it a little squeeze, and thought it seemed a bit firm yet.  So I selected another kiwi, again squeezed, and this time it was temptingly tender.  Suddenly, it dawned on me that kiwi share many commonalities with balls.  Kinda brownish and hairy on the outside.  A slightly awkward fruit that you can’t just bite into.  And full of juices and many seeds.  Don’t squish them or you’ll make a mess.

My favorite summer fruit is watermelon.  A glorious treat on a hot day.  But have you ever considered the likeness a watermelon has to a big belly?  Firm on the outside, but once you get through that thick outer layer you get to the “guts”.  Deep within its pink and precarious, it’s got a fibrous kinda consistency.  If you were to stuff your hand inside (envision Indian Jones: Temple of Doom) and pull some of the innards out, they’d be mushy and drippy, and probably kinda sticky after the fact.  I hope I didn’t ruin watermelon for you.

Following summer, the fall season arrives.  And with it, the ass of the fruit world; pumpkins.  Yes, they are a fruit.  They are all different shapes and sizes, but they have that little dip at the top where the stem comes out.  That stem always makes me think of a turd.  My mind is clearly not the most mature.  Pumpkin stumps can be thick and short, long and skinny, and some are even curly and fragile.  Those pumpkins probably ate something funny the night before.  Walking into a room of people is like walking into a pumpkin patch.  Look down, and select the rumpkin for you.  Ha….rumpkin.  Rump, and pumpkin.

Now as far as boobs go, I don’t really understand the melon thing.  Unless you’re a women with silicone surplus or excessive cushion, melons are a difficult thing to achieve.  Whether honeydew or cantaloupe, I can’t fathom carrying two melon-sized appendages on  my chest.  So lets explore some other options…I suppose for this particular body part we could categorize many tree-hanging fruit.  Like a growing woman, there is first a small blossom followed by the development of fruit…until they then fall from the tree.  Peaches are pretty, pears are kinda pointy, and then there are the well-endowed grapefruits of the world.  Eat your fruit before they go bad.  And when organic aren’t looking so good anymore, try the hormone injected picture-perfect ones.

Grapes are like eyes.  Kinda round and veiny inside and juicy.  I’ve never eaten an eyeball, but on Fear Factor they always gag on the juice that squirts from a cow eye or whatever.  I can only imagine human eyeballs would have the same effect.  (Feel free to comment if you’re sick enough to have personal experience with this.)  There are also color variations available per your preference.  I like grapes.

Bananas.  I think you know where I’m headed with this, but for our slower friends, I’ll elaborate.  Bananas are like fingers.  Kidding.  Bananas are like penis’.  Which is why we learn to put condoms on bananas in high school (an uncomfortable educational task to say the least).  There are huge, bland flavored plantains that aren’t terribly edible, little baby apple bananas that nobody really knows what to do with, the short and stout red banana, and the standard sweet banana (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bananavarieties.jpg).  They’re a firm fruit until the peel is removed.  Then they’re soft.  Don’t let your banana get too ripe too fast.  Then they’re only good for one thing; baking banana bread.  And I can think of much better uses for a banana.

Don’t always reach for the basic apples and oranges at the grocery store.  And don’t always go for the banana in bed.  Branch out and try a star fruit every now and then (I’ll let your imagination go on that one).  It might inspire you.  Or gross you out.  Fruit for thought.