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"NO" Means "NO" - A Lesson In Self Control.
- Aug 29, 2009 at 12:39 AM
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- Comments (37) Total Views (1041) Everyone can see this journal post.
Pizza seduces me. It tempts me with its slightly browned cheese and its rich and nommable tomato sauce. It whispers, "Eat me" and without hesitation I do. I can't help myself.
I was having a(nother) piece of pizza at dinner tonight, despite the annoying little voice that said, "No, Erika. Put that back. You don't want another slice."
I ignored that voice and went for the second helping:
"Add more crushed red pepper! Mama-Mia, I like-a the spicy pizza!"
*shake-a shake-a shak-AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! MYEYESITBURNSMYEYESOWOWOWOWOW!!!*
Yes. In my fevered frenzy of seasoning, the smallest particles of (really) crushed red pepper caught the wind of the ceiling fan and...I peppered myself.
Ow.
After about ten minutes of flushing my very sore, very red eyes under the bathroom faucet and cursing the employees of McCormick Spices and their offspring and their offspring's offspring and anyone who knew their offspring's offspring, I spent another ten minutes enduring watery eyes and an uncontrollably runny nose. I now understand what it is that pepper spray will do to an assailant.
I have learned my lesson. If I insist on forcing myself on the pizza, I MUST NOT ARM THE PIZZA. (Clearly, I was asking for it.) Better yet, I should steer clear of that Italian-American tease and never think of it again.
"NO" means "NO". I get that now.
I guess I didn't really want that piece of pizza after all. Now that I think about it, it probably had a parasite in its pepperoni.
(Ah-HA! Did you see what I did there? I rejected the pizza, it didn't reject me. I dumped it first, therefore I win. Humph!)
*quietly*
Slut.
Comments:
Oh, geez. Sounds like a good excuse to go to bed early and leave dinner clean up and bedtime routines to hubby. Birthday be damned.
That's what you get for whoring after other people's pizza. That was MY piece, dammit! How dare you go after my pepperoni?
Tramp.
Riki got attacked by her own pizza.
Only you, Riki. Only you.
Ouch!!! You can't be so aggressive with your pizza, or your pepper for that matter!
Ahhh, I see. You weren't smoking crack...you were smoking crushed red pepper. Well I hope you learned your lesson!!
I am just shaking my head at you right now.
Oh, so funny, lol! I wish that my food would attack me every time I was tempted to overeat. I'd probably be blind, lol.
I'm not laughing at you, I am laughing near you... LOL
Yes, our food does have a way of telling us what we really need. We just need to learn to listen. . . to become Food Whisperers. . . to truly understand what it is trying to tell us. Sometimes, though, it won't be so subtle and must hurl hot spices in our eyes. . .
Just be glad it wasn't jalapeno juice you were sprinkling on your 'za.
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I'm laughing WITH you honey, WITH you............
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