The day from hell, part deux
As we left off, the night previous I’d spent high on acid, and had only got a cool 2 hours of sleep or so, before I had to head off to my friends birthday party.
The WHOLE DAY, all I had to eat was gross and spicy goat meat, which to wash down with a nice, warm, Pepsi.
So, all I did was avoid the food, and begin a nice night of starvation. Well, I woke up the next morning, ready for breakfast. Finally, I was going to be able to eat, and I was so hungry that was barely able to sleep, it really fucked with me. I bounded, nay flew, nay Mach 3’d my way into the kitchen to see that some had already began their breakfast feast..
ON INDIAN FOOD! IT WAS FUCKING INDIAN FOOD, AGAIN!! A-FUCKING-GAIN! It was fucking left-overs, fucking left-overs! What the hell is wrong with these people, man?! Is Goat the cure for AIDS, and cancer, and erectile dysfunction? Because, goddamn, man…they lived and breathed this crap. I was losing my mind. They asked me why I wasn’t having breakfast, and I told them I was still full from last night. Despite the fact I was literally shaking from my hypoglycemia-esq shit that was going down.
We finally got home, and we had this huge carton of Goldfish crackers. It’s about 3/4ths of a foot high, and weighs about 2lbs or so. I ate half that fucking box in about 10-15 minutes or so, then felt really fucking sick, and went to sleep. Oh, and puked.
Lesson learned, if you’re going to party with Indians, bring your own food. Or, kill them, and don’t ever party with them. Yeah, do that. I think it’d be less work than option 1. Dig it.