7.13.2009

LEMON DIET DAY 7: "DUDE, WHATS THE NUMBER FOR R.A.I.N.N. AGAIN?"

There will be no jokes today. Because today, I was raped. By the ghost of a slice of pizza.

I thought I was alone. I had just gotten home from Whole Foods with a bag full of lemons. But my roommate was in the kitchen doing something with the oven. She saw me empty the bag.

"Oh, shit. You're still doing that? I'm sorry, dude. I'm about to heat up this piece of pizza. It's going to smell really good."

"Oh, yeah. Whatever. By Day Five you're totally above food. I, like, don't even give a fuck. Seriously. I'm so much bigger than that."

I was so fucking dismayed and lightheaded and weak. I ran into my room and closed the door. I knew better than to subject myself: my senses are so heightened I can basically tell what kind of condoms my nymphomaniac neighbors are using (Kiss of Mint). A few hours later I came out, thinking I'd be safe.

The pizza was long gone, but the smell literally forced itself into every orifice of my body. Each pore was saturated with the most complex pastiche of spices, vegetables, animal flesh...pepper, wine, herbs, cheese, yeast, oil. I collapsed and just let it happen. I was too exhausted to fight back. I actually felt the heat of the food wrap itself around me and invade all of my senses.

I can't blame the pizza though. I guess I WAS kinda asking for it considering how THIN AND ATTRACTIVE I am now!!!!!!!!11111111 RIGHT???????????????????

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