What I Had For Lunch

I am currently eating a honey garlic stirfy with the toughest strips of beef in it that I have ever come across.

The first piece kind of crunched between my teeth. It was not exactly crunchy, really, but it made this noise that was like crunching while it compacted with each bite. I tried chewing it really hard, scissoring my teeth back and forth, and holding each end of the strip with teeth on opposite sides of my mouth and pushing against it with my tongue. Do dice. That thing was not even going to tear. So, I wadded it up, compressed it into ball of decent swallowable size, and gulped.

You are dizzy with my mouth's amazing motor skills right now. I can tell.

connective tissue probe for beef toughnessI was able to bust the second chunk up into two or three smaller pieces, but I eventually had to do the wad-and-swallow thing again.

I am thinking that I should invest in a connective tissue probe for beef toughness.

Did I stop eating the meat in the stirfry, though? No. No, I did not.

The third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh pieces were treated to liberal shakes of salt so that I could at least justify sucking on them with some flavour. I found that, although I like salt a lot (I once considered using salt licks as furniture), I prefer it on things like baked potatoes and in a nice rice pilaf.

At this point, I am holding out for a truly stunning message in my fortune cookie that could change the direction of my whole life, because I need something to take my mind off how this is all going to exit my body. Seven years from now it will still be knocking around my digestive tract:

Have you seen an exit sign anywhere around here, Herb?

No I haven't, Len. Which way is south?

If I knew, I'd be headed there, Herb.

Here's to hoping for a good fortune cookie message.

I am presently opening the fortune cookie wrapper. The cookie is all crushed, so I can already sort of see the paper inside. This is taking some of the joy out it.

I am dumping fortune cookie bits all over my desk.

I am unfurling the fortune cookie message, and it says:

That is one of the stupidest fortune cookie messages I have ever read. Damn.

Now I must excuse myself to work some cow sinew out of my teeth. Mmmmm. cow sinew. On the plus side, there is probably enough for a little bit of a snack later!

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Today Is A Day For Sticking Pushpins Into My Eyes