So I had a Carne Asada burrito at Gualbertos for lunch yesterday. The thing was a bit heavy on the cilantro, and let me tell you, it set off something fierce in me.
I don’t know what the deal is. I’ve had more health issues in the past month than in the past two and a half years. First it was my hand, then losing my voice, then food poisoning, and now the cilantro from Hell. That stuff made me burp some kind of funk ALL DAY LONG. My poor roommates. I could have happily lived the rest of my life without knowing what releasing massive quantities of gas from both ends of my gastrointestinal tract for an entire day felt like.
Late that night, I had hopes that all was processed. Nope. I woke up at 2:00am somewhat bloated. Once again, desperate times called for desperate measures, and I sent that vile material (and the day’s dinner) to the throne of justice and slept peacefully all night. When I woke up around 7:15, I found the cilantro had not yet fully relinquished its hold on my inards. Two words: Liquid Fury. Now, though probably brief, I’m back to normal. Bland foods are looking better and better these days.
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