Friday, September 5, 2008

Pastrami

What kind of an animal does pastrami come from?  Its color makes me think cow, but its texture and overwhelming goodness makes me think pig.  I think pastrami is a cured meat, but really only because its so salty.  Maybe it just comes from a saltier animal, and also I really don't know that much about the curing process.
So I was a vegetarian for like four years.  They say your supposed to feel better and healthier not eating meat, but I can tell you from experience, that's a total crock of shit.  I feel better than ever now that I'm back chasing the red dragon.  You see, the deal was, I stopped eating meat and my girlfriend stopped smoking.  Well, she quit for like a month and I road the vegi-train for four years because I was committed.  Being committed got me into the worst experience of my life last weekend.  I don't wanna beat around the bush here so I'll just come out and say it.
I touched poop.
And not my own, which I coulda probably dealt with, but a strangers.  You see, I was at Burning Man last friday night, tripping on two hits of e, when I decided that I needed to visit the porto potty.  So I get in one, lock the door, hang up my back pack, turn around and there on the seat sat a great big messy turd.  Now any normal person, at this point, would suit back up and move on to the next stall, but not me.  Oh no, I was COMMITTED to doing the right thing for the greater good, and wipe that seat clean.  To my horror, as I went for the second swipe at the great beast, the toilet  paper slipped and the first two fingers on my right hand came in direct contact with the fecal remnant of another human being.  

This was the single worst thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life.  No amount of hand sanitizer can ever clean that kind of dirty from a man's soul.  I felt like I was covered in shit from head to toe.
Fearing that my final night of my first Burning Man experience had been irreparably soiled, I proceed to eat pill after pill until the pain had subsided and I was cross-eyed.  Also, the constant taunts from my comrades (things like, "hey poo-hand" and "well, at least you didnt touch any poop" and "hey man, I left something for you in the porto potty over there") really helped to lighten my mood.
So, the moral of the story: fuck being committed and for the love of god, dont touch poo.

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