Nice visual, eh?
Anyway, I was eating mashed potatoes for like the fifth time in three days and even though I'm Irish, I was getting pretty sick of them. So I made some of that Country Gravy that Wal-Mart sells. It's that white gravy with pepper in it. Pretty easy to make, just add water and well, that's it.
So I was eating my mashed potatoes, this time with the gravy, and as I swallowed it I was all, "Oh holy hell, the pepper in this shit-gravy is burning my still tender, not quite fully healed esophagus. Holy shit balls of fire, I think I'm dying all over again and it may be very possible I choke on my own spit and gravy. Aggggghhhh."
I swallowed down that horrible bite and grabbed the next thing I saw that was edible, because unlike the rest of you guys, it never occurred to me to make a drink. I grabbed this banana cake my mom had made earlier in the day.
|Not the actual cake in question but you get the general idea.|
I took the first slice and choked down a bite or two. Heaven. It took the pepper out of my throat and for a brief moment I was happy.
And then my gut kicked in. Uh-oh.
Oh Lord, I don't think I've ever had to clench my ass-cheeks together as much as I've had to this past week. And trying to cough and clench? Now that just ain't pretty. I keep thinking back to those potato chips that had the warning: may cause anal leakage. I know, I know. It's just where my mind wonders sometimes. Your welcome.
Anyway, I threw the rest of the cake in the trash and ran upstairs to spend a few quality moments catching up on all my reading.
I forgot about the cake and potatoes and everything else and went back to
And I'm all, "Hum, what?"
And she's all, "I see you managed a bit of the cake but I guess it wasn't that good because it looks like it all wound up in the garbage..."
And I'm all, "Oh for fucks sake, I knew I should have hid it in the garbage..."
And that is just one of the many ways I'm sure you're glad you're not me.