There are certain smells that I just do not like. We all find things repulsive. I am not talking about normal things, like rotting food or sewage. I am speaking of the normal things that others find okay and aren’t turned off by them. I want to talk to you about some certain smells that get me ill, things that make me quickly cover my nose and run away like it’s toxic fumes. These are smells that will make me gag and turn my nose to its’ pungent smell. They are just horrible. Maybe you’re okay with them but I am not. I’d rather smell the residue in a gas station bathroom left behind by some frat boy’s ruined anus after a long night of drinking and taco bell than smell the things I am about to list. Wallowing in your farts is bliss compared to the aroma of these following things…
Food. Glorious food! Hot sausage and
You like food. I like food. We all like food! I really like food. It is the best thing in the world. Before this became what it is now, it was going to be about food and only food. I will get that to that in a future post. For now, I want to talk about food that I just don’t eat. I have talked about some of the things I don’t eat but I don’t think I have ever really dove into all the crap I dislike.
Seems like people at the food business are getting bored. We have people licking taco shells and people drinking from the frosty machine. Now, we have a gentleman from Subway adding an off the menu meat to a sandwich. I am all for being creative and such but if you’re going to do it, please our sake and other’s with certificates in PIC training, wear some gosh darn gloves.
I like food. I really like food. I just can’t eat everything there is. My mother likes to claim that my older brother is a garbage disposal and will dump anything into his mouth, no matter how awful it may be. I on the other hand cannot eat everything that people put in front of me. I have my limits. I have standards as to what I will eat. I am a picky eater and I am not ashamed to admit it. I love food. I eat a lot and will eat till the cows come home. When those said cows do come home, I will grind those bovines up and will create a burgers that isjuicy and dripping with grease. Trust me, I like food. I love food. I like Mexican food. I like Chinese food. I like BBQ and above all else, I like Italian food more than anything. Nothing is better than lasagna. Everyone loves lasagna.
Do you remember when you were in gym class and it was dodgeball day? It was possibly the greatest day in class, aside from the use of the square sliding apparatuses. You knew the day was coming all week. You had the day circled on your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wall calendar. The date was circled in red with a bright marker. You wouldn’t care about anything else. No other news could compare to the excitement of playing dodgeball or sliding around on what is just short of being labeled as death on wheels. Maybe not death but I am sure many of kids have lost a few fingers while pushing themselves across the room and into each other. It was much more fun to ram each other than to actually race to the other end of the gym.
With each day that passes and each box on the calendar getting marked off, you can hardly contain yourself with exuberance and pure, unadulterated excitement. With the final day here and you’re on your way to the gym, you wonder about how many people you’ll tag out or worse, wonder if you’ll get tagged out seconds into the game. You’ll wonder if maybe you’ll be that kid who they see as an easy target and taking out the weak will make the game more challenging than just toying with you and making you feel that maybe, just maybe, you’re actually good and could hold your ground against the kids who have hit puberty years before you.