The revenge of my body against training and feeling good is the battle of every comic book known.  There is always a battle to be fought with much pain and suffering along with a small taste of sunshine. Often it is angst and mental torment brought on by the character himself.  Sometimes I believe this as well.  This story is gross but funny.  I am 48 but act like I am still in my 20s so this is dude humor.

On Wednesday last week, I finished my morning shift at the store and was off to work on paperwork.  Wednesday, I open the gym at 5 and work the store across town till 1pm and then whatever else I need to do for the day.  By 1pm, my old ass is needing his afternoon NarcoNap. It is capitalized because as any old dude will tell you, it is GD important!  My NarcoNaps mean 15 to 30 minutes in a parking lot somewhere. I have mentioned these in the past, I have several good spots across town. These were mandatory when I had four stores to contend with and working  all of them.  NarcoNaps include AC on/truck running, ear plugs in and a black tee shirt  laid on my face.   I pray for 30 minutes but usually get 15 or 20 mins.

This past Wednesday was the usual.  I woke up from my 20 minutes, checked for glassy dope eyes to indicate that I actually napped. If no glass, i lay back and try again to squeeze off some glass eyes.  Good glass eye makes me happy.  I call the old lady to see if she needs anything  and mention the BBQ place and she says get some for yourself for dinner as she didn't have as much as normally prepared and it makes good lunch for the next day.  I used to like BBQ alot but over teh past few years it does not agree as well. SOmetimes good , sometimes some upset tummy.  It is a 70/30 split good to upset.

I had not decided but the wife says you ain't going are you? I am wishy-washy  alot but figure she is right just get some for tonight and tommorrow lunch.   I get a pound with a couple different sauces-sweet and asiany hot.  I go back to gym for a bit to do some work, not long maybe two hours and off to the house.   I get some bacon to go with it. When I get home she has gotten some over cooked kebasa and some chicken.   I don't want to waste anything so I mix it all up and put the sauce on it-probablly  3lb of meat.  I work on it and work on it and work on it.  I get about 2/3 down.  I like the kebasa alot so I worked hard on it even though it was really burnt.  Bacon has to go down the gullet- a must finish. The chicken is good but in the way when it comes to all of this.   In considerable pain from eating finally quit after the last kebasa.  I let dog lick up the grease and left over sauce.  She had upset tummy as well. So deduce as you must.

The full stomach pain does not leave.... If you get grossed out, leave NOW from this article.   Gas is gas but over the years there are times after eating things don't go well and things escape your control like leakage.  In the middle of the night is the one I hate the most.  I used to go to bed in the birthday suit but after a couple of  accidental explosions over the years I learned to go single ply as a early warning system and some containment of the scene.  I get woken up suddenly like a loud noise going off or a crash in your house as the cats knock something off because cats are assholes.  I get the "pop" in my head and instantly my eyes are wide open and I jump out of the bed like I am out to get hit by a car.   Scuddle off to the bathroom hoping the damage and leakage is not severe and still close to cheek side I go. You don't run here, it is containment cheek side you are after-best case scenarnio.  But war is war and the body don't fight fair when it is mad at you.  This day the battle is bad and the pain in the stomach get louder and louder. Immediately Dumb and Dumber comes up in the bathroom scene with Jeff Daniels.   ONly way to deal is think funny here.  As in years past, I learned, when the tums is in cohoots with the back door you have to Double Undie Down-your only play is two pairs of drawers.

I have had food poisoning in the past but 24 hours is tops.  After the first wake up call, I was up pretty much every hour for the rest of the night to go to the bathroom. Think Full Metal Jacket when drill sargent comes in banging the trash can waking up the squad in basic training.  That is about it.  I get up Thursday and go in feeling like I have a hangover.  The plate is full with court appearance, again, which meant another continuance once we got there.  This is about the time I begin praying not to have to run out of the courtroom.   Today is also filming day for Spud Inc products and a bullshit session with Uncle Donnie.  I warn them all that if I have to run off.  I try to remember to turn the mic off each time but it is possible there is damning audio.

Videos and bullshit session go well. Not too much fearful moments or quick changes. By the end of the day, I feel like I have the flu.   I eat light as pretty much anything sends me packing with the corn cobb walk.  I hit the bed at 7pm which is way earlier then usual.   Thinking benadryl and xanax will hold me down for awhile, well hoping.  10pm the trash can beating and screaming in my head starts up.  When I am awake ,I am up every 15 minutes. Think Dumb and Dumber scene with legs kicking and eyeballs dancing  up in my head. When I manage some sleep I am woke up  hourly and it is not good.  I have many many pairs of undies.  Unless they are blowed out completely I keeps them for years.  Put it this way, I have two drawers of drawers.   By 4 am ,I have almost  emptied the first drawer of drawers with double undie changes.   I usually open the gym on Friday but no way  I will survive without a suite case of the small clothes.  I end up not getting out of the bed till almost 1pm so 17 hours of this.

The beating of the trash can to let me know I need to go lets up some as each day passes.  I eat light and drink light.  I drop 10lbs which so far has not returned. By the end ,I could have done the turn 50th colonoscopy. Monday, as  I am thinking it won't end ,suddenly by 10am it is done like a magic trick.

Lessons:

-Don't mix kebasa, chicken , BBQ and lots of sauces together.

-When yours gut says don't do it, don't do it before your real gut pays the fee.

-Laugh at the Dumb and Dumber bathroom scene all the time, because that shits is for reals.

-When your wife says you should throw away your old underwear you tell her to f*^k off.  Ass warfare requires supplies like any other.

I always like to share my experiences. As you know, I learn things the hardest way possible as I usually know better but it always makes for a fun story when you do it anyway.

 

Spud