November 10, 2021 by sandwichcontrol
Live in Tegses, Precious.
The word of the day is: Tchotchke.
|[ chahch-kuh ]|
an inexpensive souvenir, trinket, or ornament.
Yesterday just kinda went by.
It wasn’t so much a blur as streak.
Like the kind that nearly happened in my pants.
There was so much pressure.
So much gas.
And none of it dry enough to trust in public.
It felt like my asshole was blowing bubbles into the toilet.
The good thing about nearly shitting your pants, but instead just painfully clenching every fiber of your being into not shitting your pants, is that you feel so much better after you get to release it.
I probably lost five pounds and 17 atmospheres.
The abbreviation for atmospheres is “atm”.
Which is also the abbreviation for ass-to-mouth.
I think not.
Maybe my memoir will have a recipes section.
I like food.
It’s kinda important in my life.
Given that I have to eat it or I will die.
Maybe I’ll just invent some recipes for that section.
Rather than sharing recipes that I like.
Adam’s World Famous Vienna Sausage/Hash Brown/Cream Cheese casserole.
It’s got a nice ring to it.
And I wonder my guts are in upheaval.
A ham and peanut butter sandwich never gave anyone the squirts.
I really need to take a nap.
I shouldn’t be nearly this tired this early in the week.
Also, my legs are fucking destroyed right now.
Oh look at the time.
See ya’ tomorrow.
More soon. ~SC
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