Social Experiment #1 **Update**
Day 5:
Dear Scientific Diary,
These last two days have not been good. Yesterday, I went to Boston's for lunch. Ordered a bowl of Queso and a 32 oz. Mt. Dew. The thickness of the queso gave my aorta a fluttery-like feeling. And I feel that the Mt. Dew is giving me kidney stones. Only two substances are permitted to rocket out of my urethra. And lava-compacted, continental tectonic plate-like Volkswagen-sized boulders are not one of them.
For dessert, I decided to create my own pasta. It was Pasta Tuesday's. And I had a coupon. I opted for a bowl of bowtie, with Creamy Tomato and broiled chicken. Garnished with fresh garlic bread and cheese. I thought my first bite went down the wrong hole. My second bite confirmed it. There's no better way to describe it, as I did to my server, that the pasta tasted like vomit smells, except I could taste the acidity as well. Like any young, intelligent, attractive female bartender would do, she took my pasta bowl and sniffed it. And I could see it in her face how hard she fought to keep control of her gag reflexes.
So I switched to the bowtie, with Creamy Pablano Tomato and broiled chicken. Cause diary, you know I ain't goin' out like that.
And I ate it. For science.
And in under 90 minutes, I was blowin' out my system for the third time in as many days.
I am now 5 lbs less than where I began and am waking up with side pains; slightly posterior to the curve of my ribs.
I shall Mc Double my efforts.
Dear Scientific Diary,
These last two days have not been good. Yesterday, I went to Boston's for lunch. Ordered a bowl of Queso and a 32 oz. Mt. Dew. The thickness of the queso gave my aorta a fluttery-like feeling. And I feel that the Mt. Dew is giving me kidney stones. Only two substances are permitted to rocket out of my urethra. And lava-compacted, continental tectonic plate-like Volkswagen-sized boulders are not one of them.
For dessert, I decided to create my own pasta. It was Pasta Tuesday's. And I had a coupon. I opted for a bowl of bowtie, with Creamy Tomato and broiled chicken. Garnished with fresh garlic bread and cheese. I thought my first bite went down the wrong hole. My second bite confirmed it. There's no better way to describe it, as I did to my server, that the pasta tasted like vomit smells, except I could taste the acidity as well. Like any young, intelligent, attractive female bartender would do, she took my pasta bowl and sniffed it. And I could see it in her face how hard she fought to keep control of her gag reflexes.
So I switched to the bowtie, with Creamy Pablano Tomato and broiled chicken. Cause diary, you know I ain't goin' out like that.
And I ate it. For science.
And in under 90 minutes, I was blowin' out my system for the third time in as many days.
I am now 5 lbs less than where I began and am waking up with side pains; slightly posterior to the curve of my ribs.
I shall Mc Double my efforts.
