Zen and the Art of Biological Warfare

I woke up at 1:15 last night for no reason whatsoever, & discovered I was hungry as hell. No big surprise, I remembered the last thing I had to eat yesterday was coffee at noon. So I lurched my way into the kitchen & it took me all of 3 seconds to decide what to make: Bobbe’s Midnight Special, curry beef with egg, rice and puri’s. I am so good at this recipe, I can produce it in under 20 minutes, curry from scratch and everything. Add a liberal amount of Satan’s Jockstrap ™ peppersauce and you’re in BUSINESS! A trappist beer is the best accompaniment, and I had a 40 oz Duvel just waiting there like a Catholic Thai schoolgirl wearing a thong and a smile.

So, by 1:50, I was honking into some serious grub. By 1:55 I had no olfactory senses to speak of, my temporal lobe was thoroughly cooked and I had beads of sweat dropping off my forehead in a rapid fire tattoo on the leather couch. Beer…Gone. Beer all gone.

Of course, the catalyst of beer, curry and unbearably hot peppers also produced a biological reaction that made even my cats flee with disgust from my presence. My roommate, who hadn’t had a shower in days, walked in, reeled back & returned to bed, never to be seen again. The paint started peeling from the wall. Hell, I even had a hard time keeping the T.V. on one channel. I could probably propel myself across the English Channel without once using my arms or legs. You get the picture.

In the wee hours of the morning, your most evil thoughts will emerge, and this will bleed over into your cooking. The Midnight Special is nothing to scoff at, it must be approached with the utmost caution. That critical point of insomnia, where you know you are hungry, but can’t decide between Cap’n Crunch or something with a little more…Bazinga. It makes you dream of an archeological lecture given by Dr. Zira from Planet of the Apes, in which you have arrived dressed as a blue Pygmy. And there’s this girl standing by a waterfall in some tropical part of the world, and she speaks to you with her eyes, and says; “Can you SEE what I’m SAYING?” Oh God, I forgot about the Sumo wrestlers…If you don’t have the emotional wherewithal to accommodate this, EAT SOMETHING ELSE. You must mentally prepare yourself for a morning of ostracization and ridicule.

Think I’ll make another one before class tonight…

Good times, good times.