Watermelon, who I thought was my friend, tried to kill me.
Last night, the ides of June, something just didn't sit right in my stomach and I threw up several times--and the main culprit was watermelon. Now, you've never thrown up watermelon until you've throw it up like me--specifically, when the majority travels up from your esophagus into your fucking nostrils: blowing my nose and seeing watermelon chunks on the tissue was pretty much not cool at all. Not to mention the subsequent brushing of my teeth which induced a bit more of vomiting (this time some of the banana remnants too). And then again, a bit more watermelon. Apparently not only can I mono-eat the shit out of watermelon, I can (almost) mono-vomit it.
I went to bed, holding my stomach, finding a spot that was "comfortable" and was unable to move all night for fear of puke-fest. (Also, was it a dream that Boyz II Men is coming to the Valley Forge Casino or is this really happening? Or did this creep into my head because I was down on bended knee with my head over the toilet?)
Today, I barely ate anything worth eating. I ate salty pretzels, some strawberries, a larabar, and not much else, a little bit of jason's wawa veggie sandwich. My tummy still hurts. I shall have my vengeance, watermelon.
No comments:
Post a Comment