Am home from film festival. Sometimes I marvel at my good fortune in being able to live in the city. The festival went well over time yet here I am a mere half hour or so later sitting in my pyjamas with toast with jam on and a cup of hot milo (veganism can go fuck itself I am having a hot milo, there's no milk in it, only hot water but there is apparently some milk powder or some shit in milo that makes it not ok for vegans).
I am pondering pondering about this evening wondering what on earth I am going to write about it. There was a fascinating interlude where I followed around a man in a hat who had a lovely handbag but I think he saw me so it was time to retreat. Then there was the time that I realised what I was eating had cheese in it, this is why I have a belly ache and will most likely spend some quality time sitting on the toilet in the morning expelling liquid nastiness.
That was a bit graphic but its not phasing me after what I saw tonight and besides its not like its the first time I've made myself ill on cheese. I have a fair idea of what to expect. First comes the belly ache then much later blast like cramping followed by graphic toilet visit accompanied by turning fetchingly pale and getting cold shivery fever like feelings.
I don't think I should write about the part where I predict illness of the toilet variety. It may not happen. I don't know what kind of cheese it was and that is the crucial part. If it was a white and squishy cheese and I suspect it was then it is trouble. If it was a bit of cheddar or mozarella I should get out of it quite nicely. Only minimal pain and no real graphicness.
Oh dear. I am quite tired and my brain is whirring madly from seeing five hundred million films and thinking how the fuck I am supposed to think of something to say about all of this. I'll sleep on it and in the morning I might tell you the tale of the ghost fanta cup and how I ended up eating an entire packet of fantales. It was not ideal.
I am pondering pondering about this evening wondering what on earth I am going to write about it. There was a fascinating interlude where I followed around a man in a hat who had a lovely handbag but I think he saw me so it was time to retreat. Then there was the time that I realised what I was eating had cheese in it, this is why I have a belly ache and will most likely spend some quality time sitting on the toilet in the morning expelling liquid nastiness.
That was a bit graphic but its not phasing me after what I saw tonight and besides its not like its the first time I've made myself ill on cheese. I have a fair idea of what to expect. First comes the belly ache then much later blast like cramping followed by graphic toilet visit accompanied by turning fetchingly pale and getting cold shivery fever like feelings.
I don't think I should write about the part where I predict illness of the toilet variety. It may not happen. I don't know what kind of cheese it was and that is the crucial part. If it was a white and squishy cheese and I suspect it was then it is trouble. If it was a bit of cheddar or mozarella I should get out of it quite nicely. Only minimal pain and no real graphicness.
Oh dear. I am quite tired and my brain is whirring madly from seeing five hundred million films and thinking how the fuck I am supposed to think of something to say about all of this. I'll sleep on it and in the morning I might tell you the tale of the ghost fanta cup and how I ended up eating an entire packet of fantales. It was not ideal.
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xox Rups