Master Chef

C'mon Reds!

Ever have one of those days where you vomited twice due to gavaging yourself? I almost did yesterday. I'm in the habit of "enjoying" a lovely, nutritious, peanut-butter milkshake in the morning and yesterday I just didn't feel like it. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, I dutifully pressed onward, and I believe it was the final mouthful that made me think "uh-oh." After I disgorged a bit of it, I felt much better physically but I was concerned at my apparently shrinking stomach capacity.

For dinner, I decided it'd be nice to have a lovely box of pasta. I was keen to try something new since I had recently discovered that my "no chewing" approach to pasta wasn't capturing all of its nutritional value. So, using a wok as a mortar and a 25-lb dumbbell as a pestle, I ground up the pasta to a near-flour consistency and then added it to the boiling contents of my covered saucepan.

When I noticed the smell of gas emanating from the kitchen, I ran in to discover that my make-shift pasta powder had exploded through the relief valve of my saucepan (actually a broken pressure cooker) and, among other things, extinguished the flame on my stove-top. I removed the lid to discover that the remaining pasta had congealed into a foamy goo. Delighted, I quickly spooned up a bowlful for myself and had it down the hatch in no-time flat. Or would have, rather, had it not been blazingly hot still. Anyway, I ate it all and surely would have vomited again had it not been for the clever application of Lay's potato chips. Potato chips have a way of telling the body, "You need to eat more." They are so convincing in this asseveration that your body believes it in spite of all evidence to the contrary.

Next time somebody asks you to play wiffleball, make sure they're not talking about "real" wiffleball. Apparently in the official rules of the game, there is no rounding of the bases; you just hit the ball and wherever it lands is how many bases are credited to your team. What you're left with is a game that features the blistering pace of baseball with all the exciting athleticism of bowling. In other words, the dumbest thing ever.

Well, if you don't go, don't you hinder me,

-Ryan