Satan's Arsehole.
Satan's arsehole couldn't be hotter than the hell I just went through.
Over the years I've regaled you with stories of some of my spicier
adventures. Those that haven't heard it secondhand have witnessed how
much I like spicy food. And know the fact that I'm up for some serious
mucous membrane searing action if there's enough money or kudos up for
grabs. They talked about that Dave's insanity sauce hot wings challenge
for YEARS after that 4th of July BBQ. I ENJOY wasabi by the tablespoon
with sushi. Habaneros and Wiri Wiris etc anything up to about
400,000 scovilles I have both enjoyed and been tortured by over the
years. And I've never had any come back up, instead it all went out the
way Ghandi's Revenge (as Billy Connolly calls it) should, in a southerly
direction. I know to draw the line at Ghost peppers and have no
intention of trying a Carolina Reaper, unless it's seriously tamed.
In short, I like spicy food.
Tonight, I had a simple Mexicana pizza from a local pizza shop, and I
struggled to finish my second small slice. Soft drink, garlic bread,
nothing helped this sucker go away, except time. It was that sneaky hot
too, that you think you've stopped before it got too bad, but it only
got hotter and hotter for a good half an hour afterwards.
This is even with some of my tastebuds and pain receptors compromised by MS-induced numbness!
And then like a fool, I believed all was well. I feel like the ignorant
sucker who innocently stood there and watched the eerie phenomenon of
the waves silently retreating out of the cove..not understanding the
full terror that was rushing towards me all too quickly
I'm betting
most of us have regurgitated in our sleep, either through over eating or
drinking or illness. Or know someone who has or can at least imagine
what it feels like. It's never pleasant at the best of times.
Now,
imagine your stomach has happily digested just about every part of this
aforementioned pizza from hell, and anything else you ate prior to that
EXCEPT a few stringy bits of stuff and the chilli oil slick that was
floating oh so innocently on top of your stomach acid.
Stay with
me....you wake up with that oil slick coating every mucous membrane in
your throat, mouth, nose and sinuses....as you desperately try not to
breathe it back into your lungs.
Yeah, painful, right?
In
desperation, I asked Alaskaboy to grab me a bucket in case I didn't make
it, and then I ran to the bathroom and vomited up as much as I could
into the sink. After rinsing my mouth out, thinking it would help bring
up whatever was going on in there, I drank about 500 mls nice cool
water.
It only made it worse. It didn't dilute the oil, it simply
increased the surface area the damn slick could spread out over and
tenfold increased the number of tsunamis I had to endure surging up and
out.
The chilli queen has been deposed by two small slices of pizza. Oh, the embarrassment!
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