You know that scene in Clueless where Cher is walking by the water fountain and suddenly it dawns on her that she loves her stepbrother even though she had spent most of the movie thinking he was gross and (minor detail) over-stressing the fact that he was her stepBROTHER. Think about that for a moment. Remember this. Also remember that Brittany Murphy is dead because its important/I almost forgot about that/I still can’t believe it.

So I was watching Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs on that netflix instant thing earlier and I was repulsed by the whole concept. #1. Radioactive food. Gross. #2. Its FALLING ON THE GROUND. #3. The “leftover pile”. Right? So, yes, repulsed. The entire time, I don’t know why I found it so gross. Its a cartoon. Plus I had this gyro from pita pit earlier, I had coffee, things were good. Maybe I was too full so the idea of falling food seemed grosser than it otherwise would.

So I watched the movie which was great. Plot, aside. And then. Just as Cher’s love for her stepbrother hit her like a TON OF BRICKS. My appetite followed suit.

I ate:

• pulled pork
• old fries
• toast
• toast with orange marmalade
• an entire can of Chef Boyardee, which is actually disgusting. It should be fed to dogs.
• pickles
• crackers
• sharp cheddar cheese
• all topped off with sparkling apple cider.

All of this food within a matter of 15 minutes. That includes the 2 minutes I had the chef boyardee in the microwave because I was eating the orange marmalade and toast WHILST waiting for it to heat up. I think my stomach might blow up. Or that something will go wrong and food will somehow get into my blood stream and kill my spleen and I’ll die.

I am elated. And I feel like throwing up or getting my stomach pumped.

I feel both. I am both.

I don’t know how I let this happen.

I wish I could meet a man like Paul Rudd