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I have many acquaintances who declare themselves (some of them with much aplomb) Friends of The Peep. I, my humble readers, am not.

I hate the Peep. I loathe the Peep. I hate the way it's covered in artificially colored sugar from one end to the other. I hate it's beady little brown eyes. I hate it's marshmallow middle and the way it's all puffed up and airy and sweet and gross. I hate, hate, hate the way Peeps get crusty and hard nearly the minute you open the package.

In fact, in college, my hate of the Peep was so notorious (along with my abject fear of Silence of the Lambs) that my roommate, every spring since graduation, mails me an envelope containing only one extremely hard and crusty Peep and a black note that reads "Hello, Clarice."

Beware the dreaded Peep, my friends. And watch your back before you end up on a plate with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.