Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Crappy fortune

We got some some sweet and sour chicken from this shady chinese place by our house (best sweet and sour ever, and its only like $6 for huge order). I ate entirely too much as per usual, and was all excited to crack my fortune cookie and see what the future has in store for me. This has to be the gayest fortune I've ever seen. I don't even think its a fortune. WTFFORTUNECOOKIE.


6 comments:

Brian said...

You should have given it to Sara.

squez said...

I agree with Brian

shellyfire said...

Last Monday I ate a chicken sandwich from the Stop-n-Go by the Fargodome for lunch. Not one of those Deli Express ones, but a chicken sandwich that was actually cooked in the gas station from a real chix breast. It was wrapped in saran wrap sitting under a heat lamp when I came across it. I bought it and scarfed it down and realized on the last bite that the texture was off. I looked at the last bite and realized it was all pink. That was about 11:15am. That night, me the wife and the kids went to a place called Passage to India. I had the spicy Indian-Chinese Szechuan chicken dish. We then went to West Acres and I had a Mrs. Fields cookie to top it off. Half way through the mall I was starting to feel warm and squishy. I knew something was wrong and demanded we gtfo. By the time I got out of the building I was in flop sweat. I went to puke in the ash tray canister but there were people everywhere and there is no way for me to be discreet. When I puke it sounds like someone is hacking me with an axe. I sound like a Tom Green bit. I can not control the noise I make what-so-ever. Bheeeeeeeeeeeerrrrruugggggg buh Bruh BUH Biiieeeeeeeeeerrrrrrgrgggggg

I made it to the car and stood there waiting for people to pass so I could hork. They just kept coming. We were only 1500 yards from our motel so I rolled the dice and got in the car. As soon as we got to the motel, I got out walked to the back of the car and start vomiting my fucking soul out. It wasn't just like puking, it was like my body was trying to rid itself of everything but bones. It was like my brain decided that vomiting out my organs was more important than breathing. On top of this hideous violence, the puke coming out is spicy as hell and mixed with tons of rice. When I puke, it comes out of everywhere. This shit is burning like hell, in my throat and nose. My nose is getting clogged with bits of chili/curry rice, veggies and chicken so when my body gives me a second to breath all i can smell is the chunks of half digested Indian food logged in my nasal passage. On top of this, my 5 year old is in the back seat of the car screaming and crying, yelling, "I DON'T WANNA SEE PAPA"S THROW UP!!!!" It was fucking awful. I finally made it up to the room and continued. Every session getting more violent, but with less and less to vomit. Half way through all of this the liquid shits kicked in. I'm not talking diarrhea here, I'm talking about spicy coffee streaming out of my ass. This came on very suddenly and I found myself w/o a trash can or barf bag, forcing me to try to control one while doing the other. I was going back and forth so fast that I didn't even have time to flush the toilet before puking in it. The bouquet was magnificent. After 2 hours I finally felt stable enough to leave the bathroom and lay down to get some sleep so I could get up the next day and spend 5 hours bouncing around in a semi. My point of all this is that although I know it was really an "Indian" restaurant, it would have been nice to get a fortune cookie with the meal considering it was technically a Chinese dish. Maybe then I would have had a more pleasant story to share.

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shellyfire said...

This is too awesome.