Neanderpundit

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.

And this is one of them.

We have a set that she’s fond enough of that she has it on almost all winter long, leaving the bed just long enough to be washed and dried and put back on.

Trouble is, the bastards have the consistency of a T shirt, they’re stretchy, and have the adhesive properties of Saran wrap. Six times a night I wake up with them wrapped around me like some slow, tedious mummification process is taking effect. Of course the wife bitches about the blankets being pulled, which of course never happens with flannel or percale.

And these days I wear a wrist brace at night to keep the carpal tunnel at bay, and the velcro sometimes attaches itself to the jersey, and I wake up and head off to the crapper with most of the bed attached to my arm, which makes me very popular in my house, as you can imagine.

Damn, I’m for some global warmening. I need to get back to percale sheets soon.