A couple of weeks ago the Beest had a pronounced gas problem. Of course, being a cat, she tooted away sans care. She seemed to rather enjoy it, stretching and sighing contentedly. I cared and I wasn't enjoying it. She lays next to me on the desk shelf, fanny pointed right at my nose all day and sleeps with her butt pointed at my head at night. Each blast was a gust from Hell. The culprit was the beef Friskies and once that was gone so were the sulphuric mushroom clouds. End of problem.
However. For the last few months I've generally been eating healthy. Fresh meats, fruits, veggies, good cheeses. Happy, no sugar, no refined starches, no unpronounceables. Just nice, Adele-Davis-would-approve-foods. Weight dropped, energy rose, everything running well. Until Saturday.
In a Summer inspired madness I bought a package of Hannaford "wieners". Totally avoiding reading the ingredients (we know what's in there), I boiled a couple up to dirty water standards, slapped em on whole oatmeal bread with relish and mustard. What could be wrong with having a couple of wieners? The whole world loves wieners!
I've never in my life had such an experience. I don't even know how that much gas could be formed in one body and still be alive. That amount would be, I'd heretofore imagined, what causes spontaneous combustion. Every type and variety of poot and blast. Ratatats to groaners, on and on.The intestines "wuum"ed and burbled. The Beest promptly left me alone. She stayed in front of the open window across the sitting room, all day and all night. She wanted no part of me. I wanted no part of me. The only comfort lay in the fact that we don't fart right under our noses. Maybe there was a god involved in designing the human body. Or maybe the ones who developed arseholes under their noses killed themselves without breeding.
Retiring for bed it seemed to be abating. But I sleep on my stomach. As soon as I assumed the sleeping position every rotten egg that had been hiding decided to come out to play. I eventually fell asleep but damned if I could stay there. My own ass kept waking me up. This went on all night. I'm tired.
The rest of that package of wieners is in the freezer. They're unregistered weapons. I'm sure they'll come in handy, some day... heheh.
The Door Is Ajar.
5 days ago