I have eaten
some damned strange stuff, and though not all of it was even properly considered food, it falls well within the categories set forth by Elisson here. Twinkies and Guacamole? Check. bacon and fritos? Check. Bird’s nest soup? Um, no. No potage made from what-let’s face it- is the phlegm of a bird, is going to get guzzled by Og.
I’m not agin’ trying strange stuff, though, and while I’m not Bear Grylls, I have eaten a lot of stuff- my gag reflex is very controllable.
Want to get me retching, though, just sit out a spit cup.
I worked with guys who chewed, and I gotta tell you, nothing more disgusting to me than the mere THOUGHT of accidentally picking up someon’es skoal-smelling swill and gulping it accidentally.
One of my worst moments in my gig, was installing a system at a distributor in Kansas City, where the setup guy chewed; he’d left a ladder under the beam and as I moved it, his styrofoam spit cup fell over, and drenched me with the nastiness.
I had intended this to be a fly in, fly out- and had no spare clothes. So I ended up getting a hotel room, stripping down, and laundering my one and only suit of clothes whilst wearing a bedsheet like a toga.
The smell stuck with me longer than I would have wanted, and even on the plane, on the way home, I would have occasional moments of retching, thinking about the spit drenching my hair and clothes.
28 comments Og | Uncategorized
I grew up eating Swallows-Nest soup and it’s not that bad. It doesn’t have any flavor and takes on the flavors of what it’s souped with. I think it’s delicious, but that’s just me.
As for the spittoon stuff, yeah, that’s nasty shit. I dry-heave just thinking about it.
You killed him of course.
i farted in his cube. He WISHED i’d killed him.
In his cube? Dude, that’s just plain mean…
I’m with you on the nasty spitcup. I worked with a driller who chewed – and thank God he did because when he didn’t, he was a stone-hearted bastard. I didn’t chew, but I kept a spare can in my kit so that when he ran out (which was often because drillers aren’t the most forward-thinking people in the world) I could resupply him and we could get the work done.
Anyway, our company bought a brand-new rig and the driller was thrilled for many reasons. One of them was that the new rig had a dashboard (the old rig was on a 1964 International cab-over three-axle chassis with no dashboard, or heater, or padded seat, etc,) which made the perfect spot, in the driller’s estimation, to set his damned spitcup while driving. Of course, the cup fell over on the first trip down the street and spilled into the ventilation system thereby cursing the rig forever with the vile odor of semi-viscous bodily fluids laced with tobacco and wintergreen.
Excuse me, I hafta barf now.
Q: What’s worse than Turdblogging?
A: Chewin’ terbacky spit-cup-blogging.
Jebus, Og – you have plumbed new depths. And I am so proud.
BTW, that Bird’s Nest Soup, AKA swallow-phlegm soup? It’s pretty tasty.
The punchline of the most disgusting joke I’ve ever heard was, “I had no choice it was all one rope.”
Some things are better left unblogged.
btw, what a relief. I’d always thought Bird’s nest soup was Bird snot soup.
The closest I ever came to that was taking some sips off what I thought was my beer, until one of my roommate’s cigarette butts floated into my mouth.
Saw a guy in our gun shop one day, walking around w/a empty soda bottle, & regularly spitting his chew into it. Ugly shit, right there.
I’ve used the stuff occasionally, but never spit unless outside.
So I said to the guy, a little too loudly,
“If you’re man enough to put that in your mouth, you should be man enough to swallow”.
Mebbe I should have rephrased that…
I used to chew for a short time, back ’round 75-76. Mostly Skoll Wintergreen. My buddy, Terry B., also chewed (he, being an old country boy, liked nothing better then to do a dip when ever possible). Anyhow, we were at a small get together…bunch o guys and assorted girlfriends. The booze was flowing…decided to have a coke vice a beer…was drinking an talking and drinking and talking. Terry was chewen and spitting (in HIS empty coke can). Yes, I did, took a swig from what I thought was MY coke can. My friends, when the lump o chew/god knows what else hits the ol’ uvula on the way down, you have two choices; swallow or hurl. I swallowed. After being able to breath again (having fought the urge to send all my stomach contents in Terry’s general direction) I called him everything but a white boy. From that day forward I have never chewed. And I ALWAYS make sure it is MY can (of any beverage) that I am taking a sip from at any time.
Windy, I know that joke. I wanted to tell it, but it was just too damned disgusting and I didn’t want to think about it.
By the way, Og, honey is made from regurgitated bee spit, pollen & nectar.
Um, no. Honey is made from flower nectar. Regurgitation is the delivery mechanism. Interesting fact about honey, anyone know what it is?.
It never spoils
That too, n5. What I was looking for is the fact that honey is the only foodstuff on earth that doesn’t require that something die.
Hi All ~ The guys around the hanger here have a few chewers and I used to be one of them once upon a time but we chewed the manly Copenhagen brand and considered Skoal suitable only for sissies and children.
Out of politeness to Rodger Ramjet and Dangerous Dave we started gobbing in clear plastic bottles so everyone could see the mess inside and steer clear. The fellers called them ‘lava lamps’.
We also used to gob in the drinking fountain and wash the mess down the drain with a squirt of water ~ but one day it backed up and one of the panty waists went in to fix it. When he broke the trap and all the sludge leaked out all over him he shrieked like a woman and we hosed him down by the eye wash/emergency shower ha ha ha!!!
Getting drenched in snoose juice is just God’s way of cleansing your life’s sins away Neanderpundit. There can be no other reason for such a disgusting punishment. On the good side, you are ready to face your Maker with a clean slate.
“you are ready to face your Maker with a clean slate. ”
Would that that were true. Or even possible.
I went to high school in Wyoming where all the cowboys chawed. Most of them carried a soda can to spit into.
One day a low weight-class wrestler who had a match that afternoon walked into class spitting into a large clear drinking glass. He was trying to spit out enough water weight to drop one last pound to make his weight.
After class one of the chawing cowboys mentioned that he should be spitting into a can so the rest of us don’t have to look at his spittle. More words were exchanged, tempers flared and some pushing started. That’s when the wrestler threw his glass of spittle at the cowboy. Several seconds later the wrestler learned that there is a big difference between wrestling an opponent on the mat and taking on a kid who steer wrestles for a hobby.
After a few moments of thrashing around the wrestler found himself in a headlock with the contents of the cowboy’s pepsi can being poured slowly all over his face.
He puked up enough to make his weight class that afternoon. He also quit the wrestling team after getting beaten for the second time in one day.
The rest of us vowed to never want to see the contents of a spit can again.
“…honey is the only foodstuff on earth that doesn’t require that something die.”
What, you kill the cow after you milk it? Heh.
grass dies eli.
I learned early on never to leave anything on a ladder. A heating contractor went to lunch and left several tools on his ladder. We had to carry some big shit through and my boss moved that ladder and got a 12″ pipe wrench on the head for it. With the worst possible timing, the dude came walking in right then. And got his ass kicked 6 ways to Sunday. Made a lasting impression.
Robert Earl Keen comes to mind…
So I went to the movies with my little Peggy Sue,
I had my dip there in my lip just like I always do.
She didn’t know I was spittin’ in my Coca-Cola cup,
She took a great big swallow and then threw her popcorn up…
By George, Og! You’re right! I am humbled by your wisdom.
Honey! It’s what’s for dinner.
Not so much wisdom as a head full of useless bullshit.
“”(Rusty)you are ready to face your Maker with a clean slate. †(Og) Would that that were true. Or even possible. ”
Yea, Og… yea.
[…] by Dax Montana on Feb.08, 2009, under General After reading first this and then this, I must add my own tale of woe. The evening after helping my good buddy lance move into his new place, we threw a party, a house warming party. The early twenties was an exciting time for us to be sure. Lance found a duplex just outside of Clarke County close to Watkinsville. The duplex he found to rent was at the end of this duplex development. It was a bit larger than all the other duplexes. As the story goes, the developer built this one duplex a little larger, a third bedroom, with better appliances on an awesome lot overlooking a little stream in the heavily wooded back yard, with a huge deck, for his son to live in while attending classes at the University of Georgia. A far cry from the little cracker box shack he was living in. […]
My office partner used a soda can for his spit. I developed a habitual grip of death on soda cans, never releasing one from my grip starting at the vending machine and lasting until it went into the trash can, as a result.
Red Cup…
After reading this and this and this, it brought back a memory from just a few years ago. I was down at the beach on a Friday night to help prepare the pig we were going to roast the following……