Popcorn is gross. Normally it's flavourless apart from the slight aftertaste of burnt cardboard and it needs a small vat of butter to make it palatable. What's the point in that? Just drink butter instead. Yum. Butter is good.
And don't get me started on the cinema-made stuff. Each piece tastes like its been infused with a mound of artificial salt and is cleverly concocted to encourage you to purchase an overpriced, watered down Coke along with it, just to undo the tongue-burning damage caused.
Then there's your teeth. Everytime I chuck a handful in my mouth, I am assured to be left with a chunk of popcorn firmly lodged in one of my molars which no amount of tongue motion or teeth-grinding will remove.
And popcorn is noisy, even after its been popped. In a crowded cinema with fifty-odd people chewing, munching, chomping on the stuff and occasionally rummaging around in their red'n'white buckets for the last few pieces, it is frustratingly difficult to focus on the massive screen right in front of my face. Do not underestimate the power of popcorn.
I concede there is some novelty in watching popcorn being made at home. But after the first 20 or so *pop*s, little yellow things turning into fluffy white things stops being so exciting. I just wanna eat, dammit, why do I have to turn this thing into another thing before I can eat it?? AAARRRGGHHH *smashes popcorn machine*
Popcorn is an assault on the ears, tongue and teeth (and a major strain to my nerves). Popcorn is one of the reasons I don't believe in God. No God could have been so cruel as to make such a food the primary sustenance for innocent movie-goers. When at the cinema, I shall henceforth consume only foods that have been pureed and are served in a cup. Mmm. Liquid popcorn.
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