Thursday, April 23, 2009

My fight with Food.

.....and then there were many

Behold my man-tits!
mayo infused sacs swaying
baconator time


So I guess you all may be wondering why I have been the shit time making my posts. I shall share, you listen now!

I got food poisoning.

I am trying pretty hard to diet, and am actually doing a lot better, but sometimes a fat man needs his damn meal, naw'm say'n? (someone call Des and read that to him so he can understand the ebonics)

Well my wife works at a restaurant, and I informed her that I required a delicious hamburger from her establishment in order to pick her up. Big mistake, since I pick her up at 11 at night and I go to bed soon after getting back home... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

So we get home, and the burger has like fried onions and mushrooms on it, and smelled like pure grease. Delicious. I smothered it in mayo from my tit like I was nursing a baby and ate the whole thing, eating half of her burger as well.

I showered and went to bed, but woke up a few hours later with what I erroneously assumed was the Itis. The Itis is what you get when you eat too much grease, it is a bubbling of your guts and leads to the dookies and to your asshole playing various jazz medleys most unstoppably.

But man, this fuckin hurt! Oh well, I woke up the next day and took a huge, greasy shit the next morning, relieved as I assumed that was the end of it, and went to work. I should have known that this was a harbinger of doom for a few reasons:

1. I am a regular guy. I mean REGULAR. I crap within a half hour of the same time 3 times a day. None of those times are anywhere near 6 AM.

2. I still had mad bubble guts and the Itis, and usually a dump makes EVERYTHING better, my weiner seems longer, clothes fit better, I can read Sanskrit....

So I get to work, and the ride there was fine, but man as soon as I stood up and started walking toward the building I could feel trouble brewing on the horizon (what the fuck does that saying even mean?), and I knew I would not last the day. I did not. Man that was a lot of doo doos, great times though.

Other news from the Western front:

My fucking kids tried to make an ice rink in the basement. I'll say that again. My damn KIDS, went into our completely enclosed, non walk out BASEMENT, and turned the spigot on the wall on to make an ice rink. Luckily, I was done jackin it in the bathroom to the new Victoria's Secret catalogue and got down there in time to stop the onslaught of water before it ruined the supremely professional looking carpet job. What the fuck? SOme might say it is only natural that they do something retarded as their father did things like poke holes in the drywall with a crobar and set his mother's clothes on fire in the bathtub, but those were snarky 80's pranks, this is fuckin serious! The had water all over the place, and were trying to "skate" in their socks across the concrete floor, and failing miserably. What is up with these young whippersnappers?

On another front, your favorite wily raptor is up to his super sexy tricks again... remember that one story I told a year and a half ago about that girl who accepted upwards of 5 gentlemen's rock hard cockshafts in one evening on his bed? Well he was picking her up for another evening out on the town recently, and went bragging to JJ that he thinks she is "almost ready to give it to me, niggie!", which means she let him see her boob this time while some other dude pounded her in his apartment, him crying softly while massaging his raptor weiner under his thong in the corner, perhaps trying to keep cadence with the rapid thrusting of the virile young stallion as he marauded through her pink love valley with his purple headed colt of power... who says the Stevester is not a romantic fella?!

Man, it sucks that I got fucking food poisoning though, the worst part is it now ruins hamburgers, and pretty much effectively red meat for me for all time. This joins the list, which I will share with you.

I have a fucked up mind. You may be shocked to know this, but I do. I think I have a light form of like OCD or something, as I have to have things just so or I get agitated and start grunting out greetings which lead to manager's meetings and nothing good comes from that.

Anyway, here is a short list of things I can no longer eat and why:

1. Chili. Literally one day I was thinking about chili and I came to the realization that it is in essence "meat soup". I can now no longer eat it or think about it without gagging, which sucks because I vaguely remember enjoying it.

2. Oreo cookies (and to a greater extent, the cheapo sandwich cookies). My dad told me when I was a lad that the cream filling was lard with sugar mixed in, and I remember even at 7 or 8 picturing some huge fat guy laying spread eagle in a factory, sweating mayonnaise and lard all over his naked, lighlty haired freckled body, into a huge vat that some guy with a handlebar mustache stirred constantly, cackling maniacally as workers scooped up small servings and filled said cookies with it.

3. Lil Debbie brownies - I saw one of the ingredients is eggs, and my dad informed me that they were raw eggs. Every time I even THINK about eating one of those brownies I picture raw eggs in it and gag.

4. Chitlins - I know the correct spelling is "chitterlings", fuck you, that is the White man's spelling! Once you get over the fact that they are the intestinal wall of one of the nastiest animals on the earth, the fact that my mom said the only way to make them is to "leave a little dookie in there for flavor" has ensured I never sample their delights again...

5. Fried chicken - I know, I know- "but Stevester, you are half infected ith negroitis!"... if it were not for my poor credit scores and yearning for light skinned women I would have to turn in my black card. This one is food poisoning too, I got some Church's Chicken on 39th and Prospect, and I know this is going to come as a shock, but they were not the cleanest restaurant I have ever been in....

6. Hamburgers - see first paragraph. Every time I think of a delicious burger, I think about spraying milk chocolate shit all over the inside of the toilet while throwing up in my fucking sweatpants. WHich sadly turns me on, weird, no?

I will post more as time permits, I have to actually work. Why don't criminals take the spring and summer off?

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