For the third consecutive day San Francisco is as hot as George Clooney in the hallucination scene from Alfonso Cuarón’s Gravity, so B, Sid, the dogs and I are planning to ditch our upstairs bedrooms tonight in favor of a campout in the main floor living room where it’s a much more tolerable O Brother, Where Art Thou? on the George Clooney Movie Hotness Scale.
I got (received? was granted?) food poisoning and/or the stomach flu last night and it was, as you might understand from personal experience and/or the movies, not the most treasured of all the activities I’ve ever taken part in.
And boy did I handle it ungracefully.
Every single moment spent on the can—and oh how many there were—was met with me scream-crying, theatrically and at my maximum volume, gems such as “OH GOD WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!?”, and every single gut heave—dry or otherwise—was performed with as much downdeep passion as my slimydamp body could whet, because I felt, and still feel nearly a full day later, that in those lonely, gross moments of being gross and lonely, if I couldn’t be asleep, neither should my neighborhood.
Take that, The Castro!
I once used food poisoning as an excuse for missing a class in college when really I had a hangover from too much happy hour sangria and fell asleep in the shower the next morning, so I think dumping my shorts whilst yakking in the kitchen sink at age thirty-four was apropos karmic payback for that.
Take that, College Senior Corey!
I’m feeling a lot better now (and super thin, too!). It’s like I did a cleanse but instead of cutting out sugar and dairy for a month, every calorie in my body exploded out of my nose and mouth and butthole. And bonus, if Bevan ever drops me, I’ll have this post to use in dating profiles to attract a new mate!
Take that, Bevan!
In conclusion, unless you realize joy from waking up on the bathroom floor to find your previous dozen meals obstructing every drain in your home, always tell the truth, and never accept free chicken on an airplane.
Sure, Bevan may never have learned how to ride a two-wheeler in real life (yes, that is true), but boy does my main man love himself a spin class.