. . . .or salmonellae, or lysteria, or giardia or cholera or whatever the hell it was I had this weekend — I was a total waste. My total food intake on Saturday consisted of three sips of Gatorade and a Tums; Leon was certainly not getting larger. By night time I was basically unable to move, but still unable to eat or drink. Luckily I still had strength to work the remote, but just barely. The Rumble pretty much ended by Sunday afternoon, but still I ate half an english muffin and felt full for almost all day.

I’m back today though, several pounds lighter, and I’ve learned an important lesson: if I think the pizza tastes funny (and I don’t mean “ha-ha” funny), I’m not obligated to give it a second (or third or fourth or fifth) chance. Important life lesson I think. Now where the hell did I leave that giant sandwich from last week?