Transplanted Life
Sunday, November 02, 2003
 
Alcohol's not all this body can't handle as well
Kind of gross, but no-one should expect everything about dealing with a new body and all the biological and chemical activity inside it to be pleasant.

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are my favorite candy (and those new "Inside Out" ones - soooo good), and have been for a while. Thus, when I was doing my grocery shopping last week with the intention of picking up some stuff to give to trick-or-treaters, they're naturally what I went for. After all, there weren't likely to be more than a handful of kids, and someone would have to eat them, right.

So that would be cool, except for one thing.

They give Michelle's body the runs.

Granted, I haven't actually proven that they're the cause of me spending much of the day on the toilet (it could just be those pumpkin rum drinks catching up) - but, man, I suspect it is. I used to know a guy who had some sort of IBD or something, and he said he couldn't eat much chocolate. A candy bar wouldn't cause problem, but two or three was getting into dangerous territory. And peanut butter multiplies it or something. One was okay, but after that, you'd better start rationing it.

It's obviously not going to be an everyday problem, but it ticks me off, something I like that I can't do like I used to. And it's not even a girl problem, it's a Michelle's-body-specific thing, because if every girl had to use the can after a couple bars of chocolate, well, I don't think it would have ever gotten the reputation as a kind of post-breakup comfort food, even if that is just a ridiculous cliche.

Gads, even the noises coming from this stomach are unnerving (so I'd better end this and hit the head right now).

-Marti
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net