So many words. Not enough paper in this world. Don't hurt the trees over me.

Mad Cows Scare Me

Last night I was hanging out with the boys again. It’s always good to get down with them since we rarely get to see each other; such a far stretch from what we used to be. But we get older, find new interests, new jobs, schools, but we still have our moments. Went out to New Jersey to see Mike and do some barbequeing. Late night double cheeseburgers = hell yeah!

All together we had a pretty okay time. Joey’s last week out here to get together before he goes back to school upstate. It wasn’t our most energetic outing but it definitely had it’s fun side.

I have one concern with the night however. I got severely grossed out by the fact that half way through the second double bacon cheeseburger, I was wondering what that was at the bottom of my burger. Is that cheese or fat? It’s about 10:30 at night and we’re outside. I scoop some off. That looks like cheese. Light is too low though. I choose to investigate this matter further. I get up, with the burger in hand and walk towards the light to realize that the entire center of my burger is pretty much uncooked. The outside was done! Inside, not so much. That was gross. I’m surprised I didn’t throw up on spot, actually.

I don’t know if I’ve told this story (probably not) but 2 semesters ago my favorite professor of all focking time, Professor Siegel, showed us a video on mad cow disease. Now, I love cheeseburgers like Moses loved sandals. I was so bugged out by this video that I didn’t touch a burger for like a 2 months! I finally decided to face my fears a few months back and I’ve been good ever since.

Last night however has terrified me. I spent most of my night, and some of today waiting to feel some symptoms of the mad cow. I’ve been a bit edgy today, to say the least. Is this a symptom? What the fucknuggets?! Am I dying?! My leg feels funny!! Wait… this leg always feels funny, hence the reason I have an appointment for the 25th because of it.

So, I just want to say that if I do in fact get mad cow disease (this is no joke folks, I’m really scared) and I do die, please find Mike and Nick, who cooked the burgers, and kill them for me. If either of you, most likely Mike, are reading this right now you better hope I don’t die.

I’ll have the KKK come over and kill you. I don’t care if you’re white, Mike! I’m not afraid… to take a stand!

Tan power!!

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