A Tasti Attack
I had a bad day yesterday. And like most people, after a rotten day on the job, i like to drown my sorrows away. Do i do what most people do? Drink booze, eat unhealthy food, smoke cigarettes (did for a while, but over that part). No...i get dressed in the rain and drown my sorrows in frozen yogurt. That's right tasti-d.
The ironic part of tasti-d was that it used to tout itself as a fat free, lactose free product. As we all know from the seinfeld episode, it's not fat free. And if you now go into most of the tasti d stores, you'll see a sign that says "lactose reduced" instead of lactose free. What does that mean? That means that if you have a sensitive stomach like me or even amma, an gastrointestinal response is not far behind.
This is a script (albiet a tad embellished for readers sake) of last night after amma and me ate our tasti-d.
Well first it begins with me watching the Daily Show after staying up to watch the DNC. Let's say OBama is the future of this country. If you dont' know who i'm talking about, go onto google and type Obama. Don't be confused with OSama, they are a little bit different.
So i was watching the daily show and was laughing my little behind off. I am always amused by the DS, but last night was particularly hysterical. I came into my bedroom to find amma sleeping since she wasn't in the mood to watch the DNC. I get into bed and she snuggles up to me, and i start to watch the DS. The show, being so funny, makes me burst out laughing in a way i havent done in a few days. Giggling like a school girl and probably frustrated by my shaking, she pushed off of me, but not before announcing, "my tummy hurts." "Was it the D?" i ask. She nods. I rub her belly. She falls asleep.
That's when the gastroinestinal squad dropped the bomb.
I heard a loud noise coming from what i thought was outside. the whole apartment shook. Then the smell came in. For fear of a terrorist attack I grabbed some plastic bags and duck tape and sealed the weapons, b/c as Tom Ridge told me, this will keep any chemical bombs or nuclear emissions from getting into the apartment.
Of course the smell wasn't from outside, it was from inside, and from my poor amma's belly.
By sealing in the smell and closing off the windows i essentially created a hyper super insulated smell factory. My pet cactus keeled over and died. It was a sad and depressing moment. I had to open the doors and fan it out, but the damage was done.
OK...the fart smelled around the world didnt actually happen last night, but poor amma's tummy didnt like the tasti-d.
Call me...
The ironic part of tasti-d was that it used to tout itself as a fat free, lactose free product. As we all know from the seinfeld episode, it's not fat free. And if you now go into most of the tasti d stores, you'll see a sign that says "lactose reduced" instead of lactose free. What does that mean? That means that if you have a sensitive stomach like me or even amma, an gastrointestinal response is not far behind.
This is a script (albiet a tad embellished for readers sake) of last night after amma and me ate our tasti-d.
Well first it begins with me watching the Daily Show after staying up to watch the DNC. Let's say OBama is the future of this country. If you dont' know who i'm talking about, go onto google and type Obama. Don't be confused with OSama, they are a little bit different.
So i was watching the daily show and was laughing my little behind off. I am always amused by the DS, but last night was particularly hysterical. I came into my bedroom to find amma sleeping since she wasn't in the mood to watch the DNC. I get into bed and she snuggles up to me, and i start to watch the DS. The show, being so funny, makes me burst out laughing in a way i havent done in a few days. Giggling like a school girl and probably frustrated by my shaking, she pushed off of me, but not before announcing, "my tummy hurts." "Was it the D?" i ask. She nods. I rub her belly. She falls asleep.
That's when the gastroinestinal squad dropped the bomb.
I heard a loud noise coming from what i thought was outside. the whole apartment shook. Then the smell came in. For fear of a terrorist attack I grabbed some plastic bags and duck tape and sealed the weapons, b/c as Tom Ridge told me, this will keep any chemical bombs or nuclear emissions from getting into the apartment.
Of course the smell wasn't from outside, it was from inside, and from my poor amma's belly.
By sealing in the smell and closing off the windows i essentially created a hyper super insulated smell factory. My pet cactus keeled over and died. It was a sad and depressing moment. I had to open the doors and fan it out, but the damage was done.
OK...the fart smelled around the world didnt actually happen last night, but poor amma's tummy didnt like the tasti-d.
Call me...
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