I have to put something on top of that last post, and quick.
I wouldn’t want it to be the first thing people see when they look here. I really don’t know what gets into me. Am I like that all the time, and most of the time I’m hiding it from myself and everyone else? Or am I normally well-adjusted, confident and cheerful, overtaken by the howling only on those rare dark nights of my soul? Well, no matter now. I’ll deal with it when I have to.
I was going to discuss what I did yesterday, but it’s probably more germane (what does that mean, really?) to tell what I ate yesterday. I was invited to two Superbowlâ„¢ parties. Have you ever noticed that the TV commercials for big-screen televisions that proliferate in the weeks leading up to the Superbowlâ„¢ never say the word “Superbowlâ„¢?” Beer and taco commercials, too. They always refer obliquely to “the big game.” That’s because the National Football League has claimed the word “Superbowlâ„¢” as their own, and if you try to make money with it, they will make you pay. Dumbass idea, since everybody and his Dutch uncle knows what is meant by “the big game.” I’m going to trademark that phrase. Then I’ll get that Lexus and that penthouse.
Anyway, I could hardly sleep last night, not because I was pondering the monumental importance of who won the game, or who was even in the game, or the fact that I didn’t get to see Paul McCartney’s tits (although I was told that Alicia Keyes was trying to have a wardrobe malfunction, but nothing happened). No, I couldn’t sleep because the things in my stomach weren’t getting along, and some of them were trying to leave the way they came in. Because I ate
5 pineapple pieces
8 pieces of salami
8 pieces of cheddar cheese
1 hot dog (no bun or condiments)
1 hamburger (white bun, mayo, catsup, pickle relish)
Chex mix (numerous handsful)
Doritos (much crunching)
2 bowls of pasta salad with feta cheese
5 pieces of rotisserie chicken (very small)
1 10-inch skewer of little shrimps (possibly poisonous)
20 round crackers of some sort, plain (couldn’t find anything to put on them)
2 bowls of chili (cheese and onions on top)
7 glasses of water (due to heavy salt intake)
It should be noted that I consumed all this in less than three hours, and that the water was in addition to the usual amount of water we all drink every day (you’re swallowing eight glasses, right? Good.). This intake was necessitated by the extremely high salt content of everything else I ate yesterday. Add in the fact that I didn’t do much chewing, but simply kept stuffing things in the front, thus forcing earlier items down the back and you can see that my stomach had a big job, and one it was not used to, or, evidently, up to.
So I stuffed in two pounds of useless crap, stayed up way too late on a school night, lay in bed moaning for a good long while before drifting off into a fitful coma, and I still don’t know who won the game.
Also my pants don’t fit.