At first, I wrote about how sometimes you just really need a big sloppy meal. I reveled in all the grease, all the salt, all the sugar, and all the guilt that comes with indulging your once-in-a-while dip into the bacchanal of bad-for-you. Then I followed it up with, what turned out to be, a continuation as investigated the phenomenon of “
Jesus wept when Lazarus was laid to rest. Alexander the Great wept as he had no more lands to conquer. I weep because I can not read the greatest trilogy in literary history for the first time ever again.
Very visceral reportage, Will. I might add to that though. Imagine what you had, only not just from the stomach out the mouth. The other way. Yeah. And when both directions are happening at once, well, do you sit or kneel? I didn't have a chance to decide; both happened at once. We were housebreaking our two puppies at the time. They followed their noses. So of course my husband ran into the bathroom, chasing them, and when he saw the ... floor, he looked at the pups, and then said to me "Bad girl! Bad Girl!"
Nothing worse - as tough as it gets. You never know when it will revisit you in the future. Could be 6 months or 6 years. Just a big crap shoot (literally)
“Food-attempted-murder” - brilliant. And a crime I look forward to Law And Order stealing for an upcoming episode. Also a crime I have been a victim of. I know where it was and who, or what it was. Las Vegas, of course. Dinner before an Eagles concert. A King Crab fit for Caesar himself, even though we were at the MGM Grand and not Caesar’s Palace. It was huge. And delicious. And the concert was very good, if a little lacking in spontaneity. A fine evening until we got back to the room and I felt a certain unease. A growing disequilibrium. A gradual and then increasingly rapid spinning of the room. A lurching and…sloshing in the gastro-intestinal region. And then it was on. A crustacean cataclysm. Hours on my knees in the bathroom, doubled over, sweating, freezing, praying, pleading. At a certain point there was nothing left to get rid of, but my gag reflex, always an over-achiever, refused to quit, bending me back over until it felt like my spine might rip itself away from whatever ligaments and cartilage hold it in place and go shooting out of my back like the little embryonic alien in Alien. It wasn’t until the light of dawn began creeping into the room that I crawled into bed, weak, broken but stylishly thin, vowing to never eat crab again. It’s been close to twent years, but that’s one resolution I’ve kept.
Jesus wept when Lazarus was laid to rest. Alexander the Great wept as he had no more lands to conquer. I weep because I can not read the greatest trilogy in literary history for the first time ever again.
Very visceral reportage, Will. I might add to that though. Imagine what you had, only not just from the stomach out the mouth. The other way. Yeah. And when both directions are happening at once, well, do you sit or kneel? I didn't have a chance to decide; both happened at once. We were housebreaking our two puppies at the time. They followed their noses. So of course my husband ran into the bathroom, chasing them, and when he saw the ... floor, he looked at the pups, and then said to me "Bad girl! Bad Girl!"
I hope you had the presence of mind to jump on board and say, “Yeah, you puppies, that’s so wrong!”
Ha ha! Iceland has sharpened your humor!
Nothing worse - as tough as it gets. You never know when it will revisit you in the future. Could be 6 months or 6 years. Just a big crap shoot (literally)
Note to self: never again eat orange chicken at the Panda Express pop-up inside the train at the Barstow rest stop
“Food-attempted-murder” - brilliant. And a crime I look forward to Law And Order stealing for an upcoming episode. Also a crime I have been a victim of. I know where it was and who, or what it was. Las Vegas, of course. Dinner before an Eagles concert. A King Crab fit for Caesar himself, even though we were at the MGM Grand and not Caesar’s Palace. It was huge. And delicious. And the concert was very good, if a little lacking in spontaneity. A fine evening until we got back to the room and I felt a certain unease. A growing disequilibrium. A gradual and then increasingly rapid spinning of the room. A lurching and…sloshing in the gastro-intestinal region. And then it was on. A crustacean cataclysm. Hours on my knees in the bathroom, doubled over, sweating, freezing, praying, pleading. At a certain point there was nothing left to get rid of, but my gag reflex, always an over-achiever, refused to quit, bending me back over until it felt like my spine might rip itself away from whatever ligaments and cartilage hold it in place and go shooting out of my back like the little embryonic alien in Alien. It wasn’t until the light of dawn began creeping into the room that I crawled into bed, weak, broken but stylishly thin, vowing to never eat crab again. It’s been close to twent years, but that’s one resolution I’ve kept.
Only temporarily.