Stick with the Mild

I like things hot... my men, my coffee, and even my buffalo wings just to name a few. So when I ordered some 380 degree, burn-your-lips, there-is-no-God hot wings, I was in heaven... for the moment, anyway. About 4:15 AM, I woke up to dreadful stomach cramps... I had to leap out of bed for the bathroom, thinking my intestines were going to implode. Hmm.... false alarm. Return to bed (and to what I can only assume was a mortified bedmate). Three minutes later - more pain and another dash to the bathroom; again, more of nothing and finally back to bed. I struggled to ignore the internal torture and somehow faded off to sleep. This morning, I attempted to make light of it, explain that it was just some freakish weird body vendetta, but let's face it - gastrointestinal cramping is not a huge turn-on and there's no good manner of talking your way out of it.

I am saddened to report this is not the most ill I felt all weekend. I'm feeling much worse as I watch my beloved MN Vikings self-destruct in the most unequivocal fashion. It's already been a long season... and I'm not sure how much more emotional anguish I can take.

Game 2 tonight - GO SOX!