For members of my family, it comes in a shade of yellow encased in thorns of green. Easy enough to avoid it since the warning signs given are plenty. Not only do the prickly thorns yell go away, the debilitating stench itself could kill at twenty paces. Always makes me wonder which brave, intrepid soul first dared to break open its shell to devour the contents within.
Away foul creature!
Charming Calvin calls it delicious delectable durian.
Me, I call it a stinking dead carcasse riddled with maggots - since it truly smells like one. And with my two week stint in forensics, I should know.
Somehow everyone in the clan from the oldest to the youngest - even to my baby nephew - eschews the stuff. No doubt we were tasked with the mission to destroy such biological warfare. Though we don't seem to have succeeded in all events since we seem to continually fall for those who bear a shocking fetish for the durian.
Just curious how Calvin can enjoy eating the yellow stuff. Much to my disgust, I've actually tried the stuff and all I can say is the sweetness doesn't compensate for the all-encompassing stench.
Maybe he stuffs his nose. Or the malodorous poison has leaked into his nose killing off the olfactory nerves. Evidently he has found a partner in his pursuits since my mother claims to be a devoted fan as well. No doubt the very stench after the carving of the durian knocked me unconscious as a kid since I can't recall her partaking in such reeking evil.
So you can imagine how I felt when my mom purchased a couple of boxes for Calvin and left it in my car. Seriously. The funk of forty thousand years.