Friday, May 26, 2006

Food Poisoning

Ten minutes ago I gave myself food poisoning for the second time this week.

First, a note of advice to other youths stepping out into the world. Jars of spaghetti sauce when left to their own devices for three-ish weeks in a corner of the refrigerator, feel neglected and act out. Neglected cucumbers turn themselves into little Molotov cocktails of liquid nastiness, but spaghetti sauce is passive aggressive and tends to nurse its grievance in its bosom. Or, for it is but one and the same, to develop a fairly potent mold on the inside of the lid.

Cut to me, the famished wanderer from Walla Walla, looking for dinner. As when Trimmer came across the former Mrs. Crouchback, seeing that she possessed all of the qualities to attract, but failing to observe that she was not exercising them, so I with the spaghetti jar which possessed all the qualities of edibility while somehow going wrong between the mouth and the stomach. Trimmer took advantage of the situation (being the kind of person whom no one would attempt to attract) and turned it to his own advantage. I, on the other hand, poured the sauce into the pan thinking, “I wonder if I’ll get sick,” and then thought no more of it. A bit later I said to myself, “How strange—earlier I could have sworn that I was hungry enough to eat a horse, but here I am, only halfway through, and my stomach totally refuses to accept another bite of this wonderful food!” It was only 24 hours of not being able to anything later that recognition and reversal came at the moment that I decided to attempt to eat the leftovers before they went bad.

Tonight, I was eating the last of a six-pack of bagels purchased recently (that is, I can remember buying it) and thinking, “Mmmmm, raisiny deliciousness, offset with a mysterious tang,” when I happened to turn it over and found it covered in communist mold. As I threw away the remains, I murmured

Why do sinners’ ways prosper? and why must
Disappointment all I endeavour end?

Note: 100 kisses from Sam to the reader who can successfully identify what I was reading in the three hours prior to writing this (roommies excluded).