Cider-phobic
About ten years ago I bought me some nice fall cider. I drank it and almost died. I came this close to going to ER. Anyone who knows me, knows my feelings about ER, so that is a really good indicator of how sick I was. I have to be pretty much dying or being threatened with death to get me anywhere near ER. It was in those halcyon days before mandatory pasteurization of juices but even now I won’t drink any cold cider, only hot and mulled.
It’s been interesting. Last night did not turn out as planned. Can’t tell if it was stress, a sudden onslaught of being completely convinced of how huge an asshole I am, or evil, bad, boughten, Kroger punkin’ pie, but I came even closer to the portals of that devil’s lair in the basement of the hospital (both the ER and the morgue) than the cider event.
I’m pretty sure I brought up a couple toenails. I scared the crap out of Oliver by eventually asking him to not leave the room again as I did not want to be found dead, aspirated and asphyxiated on my own vomit. I mean, that club has some great members, but I’m just not a joiner.
So as to not shoot the horse or anything, I’m climbing back on this very moment. I felt so very bad that he had to throw out, close to his whole pie, I am baking Oliver two of ‘em as we speak.
And I’m gonna eat some too dammit. I really, really, really, don’t want to become punkin’ pie-o-phobic.
posted by Stella Magdalen @ 12/07/2007 09:14:00 AM
6 Comments:
Yeah, it was a year ago that I broke my ban on National Coney Island chicken.
That chicken sandwich back in 1992 cost me about a grand and a half and ended up in garnished wages.
P.S. V V glad you didn't die.
Yeah, life without pumpkin pie wouldn't be worth living.
For me it was a bad curry bun at the Asian Bakery across the street soon after they opened. I noticed afterward that they were cited in the restaurant inspection list for keeping their food at improper temperature, and in all fairness I'm sure they ironed out the problem at the time and have gone on to great success. After a while I was able to go in again without a wave of nausea, but I still can't do the curry.
Here's a pumpkin pie story: back in the day, the little old ladies of the small Ohio town where my college was located used to sell baked goods on the Middle Path which led from one end of the campus to the other. My food crazy friend Stan used to patronize them often, buying whole pies and eating them all himself. One day he was sitting there gobbling one when he made a funny noise and reached into his mouth. He began to pull out a white hair and just kept pulling and pulling, like dental floss out of the container, until he reached the end of a four foot strand some grandma had spent a lifetime growing.
Then he finished the pie.
In the good old days it was only the various likkers that I had severely hurt myself on that I had to ban. Boones Farm, tequila, Southern Comfort, rye and cheap gin are on the no-fly list.
But I can now drink Bombay Sapphire and Tanqueray should I ever desire to, and the rest are things I never care to taste again anyway.
I also am allergic to X as it turns out. I've had some amazing, literally technicoloured, experiences with that ( in my youth of course).
I'm proud to say that I had 2 pieces of punkin pie this am, and only felt a little nauseaous (sp? that's a tough one w/o spellcheck) enroute to take the cat to the vet. (He's now sleeping with his dolly after being traumatized by a shot.)
So far as hair and food is concerned, I am not as freaked by it as a lot of people. However I suspect that if I ever swallowed a four footer I would probably throw up just from the sensation of retrieval. That's just a bit much.
Uncle Bunny, your neighbor over at Courthouse Square, loves him some Eastern Accents, various buns and mochi balls. Me, I like the mango pudding.
happy buddha's enlightenment day
and i hope everybody's tummy
feels bettah!
barry
Tummy was fine once the very whorls of my footprints were turned inside out. Then I just went off to sleep the sleep of the doomed...
And Happy B.E. to you as well. I am late because I am in total finals stress mode and can't focus on anything longer than 3 seconds.
So. Who is going to volunteer to be my propositional logic fairy and touch my head with the necessary wisdom to make it through this last exam?
*Bing*
You are so annointed.
(if that works long-distance)
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