Today, many things occurred. Originally it was just the one occurence, and I contemplated blogging about it. I was hesitant, but then all these other things happened and I felt obliged.
Thing number one, me and Pither encountered the devil; at least the form he takes on when in the physical plane. It was something you never wish to see or become part of, but sadly I am giving you no choice. You will be told.
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‘Twas the beginning of lunch and me and Ryan were fast becoming ravenous, so I altruistically opted to buy all of the lunches (all of them) because Ryan didn’t have tangible cash on him.
This was the first of many grave mistakes.
We each chose a “Chilli Chicken Wrap”. A frightening abomination, hidden behind the deceptive facade of such a tantalising name. We gently scooped up these seemingly wholesome snacks from the lukewarm bain-marie they sat so provocatively in. It only took one deft scoop to realise something was amiss: these repasts were unusually dense.
I reasoned with myself that this was due to a gratuitous amount of succulent chicken nestled deep within the heart of the meal. I was wrong, and soon I would pay for my ignorance.
We mastered the checkout, pausing only momentarily to see if they had overcharged us. They had, but comparatively this superfluous charge was a mere misdemeanour.
Ryan and I seated ourselves at a distant table, preparing ourselves for what we assumed was a delicious Chilli Chicken Roll. I became aware of something that had only then became apparent: the rolls were wrapped in a thin cocoon of plastic wrap. I thought it was general knowledge that hot food sweats when wrapped air tight!
I worriedly peeled back this erroneous entanglement, discovering the truth behind the absurd weightiness of the snack: it was…
Damp.
What was once a delicassy, had become deluged with dampness.
I wept a single tear, adding to the already gratuitous amount of moisture that could be found pooling at the bottom of this ruined repast.
I was determined to press on, and bravely slid my fingers through the pool of malice, nestling them safety against the underbelly of this eelish grub.
I gave my mouth all necessary prepatations for engulfing this amphibious morsel, but was not prepared for what came next. My mouth began to fill with a searing liquid, heat eminating from it that could rival the sun itself.
I couldn’t commit the social faux pas of regurgitating the food from my mouth, and as such I was forced to swallow.
Agony.
Agony, manifested as a tomato slid at a snails pace down my throat. I was speechless. Nothing could prepare somebody for the gauntlet this once harmless nourishment presented to me and Ryan that day.
My mortal body was taxed out, reaching it’s limit of pain and endurance. It would have only taken the slightest of pushes to tip me over the edge. With an implied smirk, the Beast provided exactly that. With the next bite, pain no longer blinded me. I could see, moreover taste, this snack for what it truly was. And with that bite, I tasted only egg.
I hate egg! It’s yucky! [sic]
With this crushing blow, my entirety reached it’s threshhold. No amount of satisfaction could justify the completion of this catastrophic encounter.
I refolded the plastic that has contributed to the spawning of this hellwrought entity. I once more scooped it up within my feeble grasp. I walked the walk of shame and concession.
With one sluggish movement, I dumped the flaccid snack where it belonged, in the trash receptacle.
It sneered at me as I walked back to the table; hands over the side of my head.
Ryan patted my back when I returned, consoling me from the withered state I had entered.
It was a day I won’t soon forget.
Exeunt.
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Sorry I couldn’t get any photos of that disgusto thing, my hands were like COVERED in egg water. It was the grossest stuff, but I guess you already heard all about it. Ryan ended up being guilted into eating the whole thing because I paid for it. Honestly, that thing was so rank I would’ve paid for him not to finish it. I’m not even sure if he’s still alive :/
Okay so up there, I mentioned that there were numerous things, and I’m a man who doesn’t lie about how many things I say occur. The exclusion to this rule is when I use the hyperbole “all the things” in which case I am suggesting at an inquantifiably large number of things that is in no way infinite.
I think people would pay for me to stop writing right now.
Well those guys can invest that cash in my middle finger ’cause I got SHIT to rant about!
Over at the Fort Unlimited, chief blog writer Iseeyou discovered an asburd art book, entitled “Draw Furries”.
I was in a bookstore today, checking out the art section for some cool graphic design books. Instead I found a book that is simultaneously the best and worst thing. It’s awesome, but I really can’t imagine how family appropriate it could be without ruining the awesomeness of it. I mean, not that I’m voyeuristic or anything.
:0
I’ll just show you the picture then :C






