Na-cho POOP

I'm currently ridiculing myself on the toilet for eating a giant pile of buffalo chicken nachos.  I enjoy spicy foods in but not out.  Why do i put myself through such a process knowing the outcome:
Two types of habanero hot sauce and enough of each to make my nachos float like boats over the fiery sea.
Ingest the fiery sea.
Your fiery sea wants to rejoin its friends from other hot sauce bingers and all the seas converge in the sewage system where they will plan a retaliation by re-bottling themselves to burn your digestive tract all once more.

But what i don't really get is why do people such as myself do these things realizing that it will burn your asshole and make you hunch over so far you can clearly see the dirt under your toenails.  Is it human nature to repeat things that you know have an unsatisfying end just to fulfill the present pleasure? Now i'm sure we could inch over to religious symbolism here but I'm sticking with hot-sauce and a burnt anus.  Something i hope no one looks for to as a model to pivot there life around on.

Is it come to the day in age where instant gratification always triumphs over the end result?

I suppose this is where STD's come from.  Maybe babies.  Maybe when i consume gratuitous amounts of hot-sauce it burns my asshole because it is like contracting volcanic gonorrhea as a result of not equipping a simple glove for my one fingered friend.

Maybe i'll start a PSA for this.  And offer some free discount coupons to a mexican restaurant with condoms attached.

However, i still have a dilemma.  Condoms will prevent disease and babies.  But what will prevent my ass from ejecting the flames of hell into my toilet bowl?

Things i will ponder every time i put hot sauce on...well... everything.


What a convenient photo i found eh?

Painful nerves and some internet therapy

I worked on a house the other day.  I know work right?  But i got shit to pay.  My college degree isn't showing much promise as I sing depressing music in my kitchen to my friends.  I wish some big cooperate eagle would come down and swoop me up with their soothing razor-sharp talons.  I would happily bleed from my shoulders till i passed out from the feeling it gives.  Rather, i wish i didn't get nauseous around blood.  I don't dislike blood.  My stomach just has a nice imagination of my own.

Anyway, to this job --this gig rather.  It paid well, but now i have a new mortal enemy:



ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DAMN YOU TILES.  I LOST MY USE OF HALF MY NERVES. I walk with a drop foot, i cant play guitar properly, i feel like a zombie from The Walking Dead.  Why do you pay me with money and pain.  All those hours sprawled out on the floor in 3 straining positions that are guaranteed to kill any nerve endings or blood flow to half your limbs.  Death by yoga.



So later i decided to follow up on a return delivery i sent out to Zappos.com for buying clonky clown shoes for graduation (these were the biggest size 10's i've ever worn).  I was saddened that my lucky streak of buying things that fit me online without a worry was ruined.  I got bills to pay, mainly my credit card bill tomorrow and I was hoping to have this refund instated in my bank account.

NO IT WAS NOT.

So i chatted up there online staff to inquire about the status.  Robert M was his name.  An overly cheerful customer service "Zapponian" agent that would ask how the weather is and all sorts of chit-chat while he pulled up the answer to a rather simple question.  He finally responded with  "2-10 business days for processing" and made me a VIP Zappos member that included some nifty benefits.  But i was all like "I got bills to pay" and he was like "i have pay some this weekend too".  He added, "Anything else i can help you with today?".

I responded:
Post college debt/depression?
haha just kidding
but thank you

Robert M:
no, no but soon enough aha

Leave it to me to find therapy through Zappos customer service chat.

Summaries of days gone by without a clue

So this is what i just ate for dinner:

And I know what some people may be thinking, "Oh what a lovely looking salad thing! It's so healthy!"

Well.  There is a sad story behind this pasta salad thing.

It is the fact that this is the reminents of food in the kitchen.  If i were to open the cabinets right now there would be an abundance of pasta boxes and rice.  The rest are ANTS.

We have a lot of ants and flying creatures that like to sneak into every orfice of this home.  It did not bother me until a little earlier i was trying to pour sugar into my tea.  The sugar was being stubborn and all clumpy.  I shook it hard and some came out.  I proceeded to shake and smack the box and much to my surprise a series of black dots with flailing arms was taking an afternoon dip in my tea.

Bastard.  I wonder how long he was stuck there consuming the little sugar we had left?  I do have to confess one thing: I lied about the tea.  It was actually almond milk i purchased because i thought i was cool.  I thought i would be even cooler by getting the unsweetened version.  It is not cool.  It taste like...boring and bland mixed into a blender and squirted out an almond's tit.

cute huh?

We also have a lot of these things called "House Centipedes" .  An insect i have always been horrified from due to the fact i woke up one day with one staring at my face.  That was years ago, and since i live in such a welcoming home to insects i decided to be more kind to them by letter them crawl up my arm so I can fling them out the back door.  But what I find most interesting is these fuckers eat other insects.  I saw a video of them stab their arms into its victim until they were still.  I have gained a new respect for them and would rather have one centipede rather than ants/mosquito/wasps all up in my shit everyday.  Oh wasps? Yea, i had a new wasp per day stuck in my bedroom.  They would get stuck there and start ramming into the walls and windows till they died.  What a strange thing to do. Am i right?

Later days