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What Would An Aborted Alien Fetus Look Like and Other Updates

Well, the answer to that very question was floating in my toilet on Saturday morning, and I blame the delicious Indian food I had for lunch and dinner the day before. There's this great Indian buffet by my office where you can get a box of food for take out. I had chicken tikka masala, some kind of spicy eggplant, rice with chic peas, and a side of naan. I may or may not have spelled any of that correctly.

Anyway, Saturday I woke up and took my regularly scheduled dump only to find that half of it had sunk to the bottom of the bowl while the other half kind of floated to the surface, and it was shaped JUST like an alien from the movie Alien. Only much, much smaller, hence the fetus reference.

To get you all caught up on what I've been putting into my body, Saturday was my birthday and I began celebrating by having my hunny buy me a bagel with lox spread and a cup of coffee for breakfast. Then, as tradition dictates, we enjoyed the annual birthday blunt. Then I made a cape for my cat because it's a special day for the whole family when mommy ages.

For dinner we went to a local restaurant where I really like the food, but the dicks at the table next to us were AWFUL. I was trying to enjoy my chicken sandwich with fontina cheese on focaccia bread, and these numbnut 20-something white kids, probably right out of college who were drunk as hell at 7pm plunked down next to us and were yelling about their wacky new york lives and how crazy and awesome their stupid everyday activities are and "can you believe this" "would you believe that haw haw haw" GOD I CAN'T WAIT TO LEAVE NEW YORK. It amazes me how incredibly stupid the people moving here are. every fucking conversation i hear sounds so damned scripted. "oooh, i live in brooklyn and draw like i'm five, i'm soooo indie. you can tell by my horrible fashion sense and smug sense of originality." So yeah, these types are slithering into queens and ruining my dinner and i hate it. back to business.

After dinner we picked up some cakey snacks at the deli and lumped it for the rest of the night. The next day I woke up and produced another family of floaters. This load was all floating, and speckled with Pentasa granules. That didn't stop me from having a party at the beer garden (Sunday afternoon is the best time to go, as you will avoid the same kind of douchebags that I was just griping about) and I had more than my fair share of Hoegarten and kielbasa. We came home around 6pm and I was pretty tipsy. I had chicken romano from one of the local italian spots (can you tell I need to go to the grocery store?) with a side of fries to try and sober me up. I didn't take any of my vitamins over the weekend and that was a big mistake. Despite taking Tylenol before bed to stave off the impending hangover, I was up at 6am needing another dose. I was completely exhausted for the first half of Monday, but my energy is picking up now that I'm back on track with my vitamins.

For lunch on Monday I had 1/4 roasted chicken with some fries and a can of Pepsi and two cups of coffee during the day. I also had a cup of chai tea when I got home. For dinner I had the rest of my chicken romano and fries, reheated in the oven. I completely forget what my poop was like yesterday. I do know that my asshole cat got into my sewing kit and I came home to a hallway full of straight pins. I was up half the night worrying about whether or not either of the kitties might have swallowed one of the damned things. I was tossing and turning so much I eventually left for the couch because I didn't want to disturb mah boo. One kitty woke me up at 6am and I slinked back to bed until around 8. I felt kind of ill when I first got up. I took a HUGE crap, I mean HUGE. Two big, thick, dark brown cylinders both probably the length and girth of John Holmes's dick. About ten minutes later I dry-heaved a little and eventually spat up a little bile foam. I was incredibly stuffed up when I woke up, and I think this might have agitated my gag reflex.

so here we are. Tuesday. I had a cup of coffee and a chocolate chip bar for breakfast. I met J for lunch and we split a tuna salad sandwich on a bagel with american cheese and lettuce and a bag of bbq kettle chips. I'm still working my way through a cream soda as I type this. So now you're all caught up. Ta-daaaa.

1 comment:

Sasquatch said...

Love your blog. I was diagnosed with UC about 18 months ago and after a rough start am better now. I yearn for the days, though, that I don't have to look at my poo.