Killer Cheese

I think my husband is trying to kill me.

Not the "spike my drink with cyanide" kind, but the "I'm lactose intolerant so I'll give you cheese" kind.

It is not entirely his fault. I could have declined when he offered me pizza and lunch-time cheese fries. I could have taken a lactase to counteract the lactose in all that dairy.

Instead I shoveled all that yummy deliciousness into my mouth without a second thought. Who am I to say no to ooey-gooey queso?

As always, I paid a dear price, but this time it was much higher. Not only did I forget to prepare with a lactaid, in addition to all that cheese, there was spicy BBQ involved.

So if I die before the Tums or Alka-Seltzer kicks in, just make sure you tell the police that my husband chose the last few meals and made me eat them...

And they all contained cheese.

It Smells Like...Team Spirit?

I almost died today.

Along with most of the people in my work space, we were attacked by a most vicious odor...poo fumes.

I know we all do it.  We all eat, digest and get rid of waste, and I know none of it smells pretty.  I've even been around that mustard crap that comes out of babies that is most foul.  And the explosive, watery diarrhea?  That shit smells like liquefied dead fish!  Today's assault was so much worse than that. 

I walked into the public restroom (with no windows) and was immediately assaulted by the stank.  I almost walked back out.  I really had to go though, so I figured I'd breathe through my mouth.  Ugh!  I felt like I was eating turds.  I tried breathing through my sweater but that did little to hold back the stench.  I wiped, flushed and washed my hands as fast as humanly possible and did what every other person in my place would: I ran into my friend's office to tell her of my ordeal.

Thank goodness she's a good friend - I made her sniff me.  I was so sure the poo fumes had permeated into my clothing.  She said no, but I wasn't sure.  I literally bathed in orange-scented antibacterial hand sanitizer, but the odor was still wafting through!  I couldn't let my fellow comrades fall into the same trap, so I went to warn them. 

Too late.  The rest of the office had already sent our token office man to see how long he could hang in the bathroom.  He said it couldn't possibly be worse than the men's restroom.  We disagreed.  As we gagged in the hallway, he came out a few seconds later saying it was the worst thing he had ever smelled in a bathroom.  Ever.

We barely survived.  The scent wafted through the hallway and into the inner confines of my office before dissipating.  I write this in a joking manner, but I was really feeling sick to my stomach.  There was gagging going on and one girl looked pretty pale.  My question is this: Is it better get rid of your load or wait to get that kind of illness out elsewhere?  In this case, I vote for option two.