Suicide sounded like a good idea at the time

(Just so you know, this blog entry doesn’t have anything to do with Julius talking about his satisfying BM.)

After the Psych exam, my roommates and I went over to Morty’s for wing night. It was damn crowded; it tok us 45 minutes before we were seated. Suicide wings sounded like a novel idea at the time. They tasted alright. The worst part about suicide wings though is breathing. It’s not the taste that gets you, it’s the fumes. So that came and went without the problems.

It’s now the next day, and I’m relearning things which I should have anticipated. It seems that those wings have made it to the end of their journey. My anus is on fire. Seriously. I’m talking about ring. of. fire. It hurts to go, and the fact that the spice is making things unsteady in the colon is not helping.

This is divine punishment, I tell you.

Possibly related posts:

1. Good things are good
2. Good friends, good food
3. I’m good at this!