I had asparagus yesterday at lunch, black beans and rice with a fried egg on top for dinner, leftover eggplant curry for breakfast, my usual vitamins and supplements this morning.
I just took a whiz and nearly yarked into the urinal.
/wine geek hat on/
Grassy, with unpleasant sulfur overtones and turpentine ground notes. Spices, turmeric, skunk, wet dog, garlic, and ginger. Overall, in need of either more cellaring or the kitchen drainpipe.
/wine geek hat off/
Oh, and in addition, the curry (from day-before-yesterday lunch) gave me flaming swamp gas and kept all of its red-hot spice on the way out.
So here I am. I’m at work. It’s 08.30. I’ve been here for an hour and a half. My urine smells like an experiment with a chemistry set crossed with an Indian restaurant.
I have flaming swamp gas. I’m in DC. Anyone want me to go and pee on anything for them? The Monument? Janet Reno? Newt Gingrich? The CIA?
Metro?
My God, man. Watch what you eat. Could you do me a favor, though? I’m curious what color the flame would be if you lit a fart. Extra credit for measuring distance and even more credit if you get someone at work to help you do the experiment.
So I read this thread earlier today, and I’m like ewwwww, the things people will write about.
Flash forward to fifteen minutes ago, I get this mail saying my friend’s on-line journal has been updated. Hoo Ahh! Thinks tater, I get to read Omar’s profound, touching prose.
Well, guess what it’s about? It’s about his pee and how it smells like fricken Krispy Kreme donuts!
My friend and I just spent two and a half periods (that’s approximately 2 hours), grilling each other with Simpson’s trivia. We traded questions as we walked to lunch, quizzed each other while eating, continued while walking back to the student lounge, then sat in the lounge quizzing each other for 40 minutes.
But this was no ordinary Simpson’s trivia. We scoff at simple questions like “What is Principal Skinner’s real name?” and “What is the name of Mr. Burn’s teddy bear?” (Armon Tanzarian and Bobo, respectively). Nay, we delved deep into our collective knowledge and went to war with queries such as:
-“What pen name does the pet store owner tell Lisa that one of the hamsters writes mystery novels under?”
-“What does Gill keep in his hot air balloon?”
-“What are the names of all the Twirl-King Yo-yo performers?”
-“What video game does Bart play, featuring prisoners gouging each other with rusty silverware?”
-“What is the name of Mr. Burn’s boat?”
-“What president does Homer claim is on the ten-thousand dollar bill?”
And so on, and so on. Feel free to take a stab, and give me more ammo for a rematch with him. I’m pretty sure that between the two of us we’ve got just about all the possible trivia covered.
“All of them. They’re having a party. Jimmy Carter is passed out on the couch.”
Ten pints of water later, I’m now back to normal.
How the kimchi, rice, and hardboiled eggs I had for lunch will run me will be further explored on the next edition of
“Inside False_God’s lower GI and urinary tracts. Thank you for supporting WETA.”
Jester, you cant be that much of a Simpsons buff if you dont know how to spell ‘mr burn’s’(sic) name. Surely its spelt ‘Mr Burns’ so if you are talking about something that Mr Burns owns you should say ‘Mr burns’ teddy bear’ or whatever. tut tut