Somehow I managed to breathe jalapeno up my nose this morning. Oh, colossal kolache, why do you betray me so? (Also... how do I do this to myself?) Oh, it burns...
Ow. Sorry dude. To this day my mother loves to tell the story about when I was four or five, bit into one of my father's jalapenos, sat there for a few seconds, and then went fire-engine red and ran for the bathroom sink ....
Oddly enough, no. Then again, apparently I also once sucked a lemon dry, vampire-style. And my friend still marvels about the time I made a breakfast of knockwurst, sauerkraut, Doritos, and grapefruit juice, back in college. Yet somehow, I've gotten tamer and less able to deal with strong spices since I went vegetarian, which seems backwards. (Never got the hang of Indian or Thai foods, which really is a pity.)
And that breakfast sounds both horrifying and... kind of intriguing. Of course, in my college days I use to have this really strange/disgusting habit of dipping Cheetos into mayonnaise. Thankfully, I broke myself of that one. I just don't think the world would understand.
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And that breakfast sounds both horrifying and... kind of intriguing. Of course, in my college days I use to have this really strange/disgusting habit of dipping Cheetos into mayonnaise. Thankfully, I broke myself of that one. I just don't think the world would understand.
(And I have no food icons. This is a travesty!)