When I was in Belize recently, I spoke with many families about the rising cost of rice around the world. It affects the worlds poorest people the most and many of the families in Belize may eat only rice for the majority of their meals. It was the realization of that old cliche every one's parents threatened them with as a kid. Jimmy, eat those Brussels sprouts, there are starving children all over the world who would love to have them! My answer as a child was always, well, why don't you go ahead and mail it to them, cuz I aint eatin it! This was the point in which my Father would get up from the table and head my direction with THAT look in his eye that said, WAITTILLI get my hands on you! My best bet was to run, run fast.
My point is that I'm afraid I may be suffering from post poverty guilt syndrome, or PPGS as I like to call it. I've been cleaning out my fridge and cabinets in preparation for this move and I can't bring myself to throw ANY food away. I've been shoving food into the mouth of anyone who enters this house to the point where they're about to throw up. And now, I'm the only one here and I have guilted myself into eating almost everything that was left. I AM THE HUMAN GARBAGE DISPOSAL! Now I feel guilty AND sick. I think it was the buttermilk that finally pushed me over the edge. You think I'm kidding. I can literally hear my thighs getting bigger. If I wore corduroy pants right now, I would catch fire. I would be fire crotch.
Lesson here: It is possible to experience hallucinations from an exorbitant amount of shat on one's belly. Particularly the obscene combination of artery clogging dairy products on top of a pint of blue berries. I see God, and he's giving me the "Oh No you Di'int" face. Lord, I did, and I'm really, really sorry.