What do you eat that you really shouldn't?
 

Triscuits and cream cheese.

Upsets my digestion terribly (not sure if it's the wheat or the cream cheese) but I still indulge occasionally.

fried things. it's just not worth it.

Salads

People.:D

C'mon, someone had to say it.

But really, spicy foods are having an effect on me now that I'm middle-aged. I still love chili, hot turkey sausages, samosas, tacos, etc. Unfortunately, they do have an effect on me. On the other hand, eating a lot of salad also has an effect on me. So if I'm going to have the same aggravation over spicy foods that I have over salads, guess whats I'm going to choose.:flamer:

A spicy salad??

Bacon cheeseburgers.

yeah, bacon. Pork products in general, 'cause they are pretty indigestible.

I have a good few years before I really shouldn't start eating stuff but I eat chocolate and Ice Cream like a 40 year old woman. (no offence to the 40 year old women out there)

ouch:right:

Food. :cry:

All kinds of desserts. My best friend has the metabolism of a hummingbird, and he's always calling me and the boy and saying "hey, wanna go get dessert?" And every time I go "sure, I'll have what you're having!" I swear, next time I'll just get half a grapefruit. Really!

Onion Rings.
They taste delicious but the next day I'm cursing them and wondering why I thought it would be worth it...

The list of things that I eat that I SHOULD eat is shorter.

Soylent green

doritos with cheesy salsa

cheesy poofs

Then you must not eat them very often. ;)

My downfall is cheese. I try to stick (heh) to the longer-aged, harder cheeses, but I still shouldn't eat them as often as I do.

I have eaten some messed-up stuff... I don't believe in regret.
I eat too many carbs for my condition though.

Yeah......

Methinks the question is not just what, but where.
The what: my 22yo girlfriend.
The where: where my wife can find me.

Carbs are my foil too. What do they do to you? Or, rather, why are they problematic?

I am diabetic.

When I went low(-er) carb, it was interesting to see what was easy/hard to give up. Rice? Easy. Bread? Eh, middlin'. Pasta? Tough, but good workarounds exist. Potatoes? WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!:cry:

Atkins was a criminal.
Telling to put people into ketosis is a criminal act for a Dr.

The end of the low carb craze has put a serious crimp in my drinking though, can't find low carb bacardi drinks anymore :(

I shouldn't drink wine after eating a hot curry. It does really bad stuff to my guts. :thepain:

second helpings.

Several years ago I went to San Fransisco and was taken to The Stinking Rose restaurant. Man o man that was some of the best grub I've put in my mouth. However, no one warned me about the side affects of the "stinking rose" so I did not use any restraint at the table. The next day I had meetings all day and had to deal with the worse gas I have EVER had. And in case you want to know, the restraunt motto is:"We Season Our Garlic With Food!"

I shouldn't drink vodka.
It brings the police to my door at 03.00

Okay, settle down comfortably children, I am going to tell you a story.

I bought some vodka from the local shop. I usually drink beer, but I fancied some vodka & Diet Coke and as I knew I wasn't working the next day I wasn't fussed about not sleeping (from the caffeine I mean).

Now this was cheap vodka, but hell - that's par for the course as far as my tastebuds are concerned! So I was a little surprised when this stuff quite so grim. Not only did it have a foul taste, it seems to have a slightly oily texture in that the taste coated my throat and got into my nasal cavity. Bleugh.

I finished it anyway, after all it was a finite source and I'd paid for it.

But then I find myself on the sofa, nothing on TV, nothing I am in a condition to read, the oily taste in my mouth and regretting mixing it with enough Diet Coke (in a desperate attempt to kill the taste) to keep me awake until Ragnarök.

So I idly text my housemate-to-be saying that I'd had some really grim vodka and now couldn't sleep. I lightheartedly (!) wrote, "If I'm found dead 2moro demand an autopsy - it's poison not suicide!"

And after a bit I decide I'll try to sleep again, switch off my phone and go to bed.

Fast forward to approx 03.00. I've sort of spoiled the surprise for you, but believe me it was in full effect for me when it was happening. First came the ringing of the doorbell. I also hear the upstairs doorbell ring. I lie there heart pounding thinking - thank goodness the OAP upstairs is out, I'd hate for her to be woken up like this. I thought it was drunken students playing knock & run on their way home from the clubs in town.

Then comes the pounding on the windows of my living room (front of the flat). Oh crikey, I think. If I stay in here they can't get me. But what if the flat is on fire? What if there's a gas leak or a bomb in the area? I'll have to go and look. Terrified.

As I left the bedroom I could see the blue flickering light of the police car outside the flat, and somehow this relieved me. I'm not sure why exactly, perhaps just knowing I was in official hands now.

I opened the door a crack - a little bleary:
Policeman: Hello there. We're looking for [full formal name, pronounced incorrectly].
SG: Hello, yes?
PC: Have you been sending text messages?
SG: No!?
At this point I think I'm about to be hauled off to Gitmo
PC: To someone in London?
SG: No! Oh..... Ah....
PC: He was very worried about you. Asked us to check you were okay. Something about your drink being spiked?
SG: Argh, no, misunderstanding, sorry, erm, I'm okay, sorry, OMG, sorry
PC: Yes, well he said you weren't the sort of person to play practical jokes [WTF?] I think you should give him a call and let him know you're okay...

Anyway, off they went, leaving me mortified in my dressing gown. I switched my phone on to find 8 text messages in increasing degrees of panic, and a voicemail message saying he was calling the police right now. Turns out the text didn't hit his phone until 01.30 and it seemed so out of character for me to be texting at that time he decided it must be a cry for help.

Sigh.

We've forgiven eachother for the terrible scare we both got.
No more vodka for SG. At least not for a while :)

Very good story, Sundae Girl. I'm glad I don't drink nasty oily vodka. They should put this as a warning label on the bottles.

Great friend, though.

I should not eat tinned smoked eel.
I should not eat tinned smoked eel.
I should not eat tinned smoked eel.
I should not eat tinne...

Somebody actually smokes eel and puts it in a tin???????? :greenface

Yep. You can get it at most Asian markets. I think it's more Chinese, but don't know what region. It's, um, interesting.

Pass the oily vodka.

Oh, well there ya go...thats my *learn something* for the day...but...umm....PASS!!!

SundaeGirl--you gave me a giggle! No more vodka for you!

alternatively, no more texting!

Beefy Logs


Oh, and SG is my spiritual twin in England. I've done much the very same thing only they hauled my ass in but only b/c I was throwing the F bomb around--...

On rare occasion: spray cheese and ritz crackers.

On not so rare occasion: candy that the lady at work keeps bringing in.

Half a rack of ribs tonight smothered in Smokey Sweet Memphis bbq sauce with baked beans, a half a pound of pulled pork, and a cornbread muffin. (Highly recommend Sticky Fingers in S.C.)
Tomorrow is going to be a bumpy ride on the porcelain bus.

Oh. My. God. I just read your story SG.

You really had me cracking up. What the hell kind of vodka did you buy: Schmirnoff 10W40? Yikes.

When you visit Ohio, Bri and I will get you a better grade of vodka, though you may have to fight me for it because my drink of choice if it's not beer is vodka or rum and diet coke.

But, we've all done crazy things. I was just talking with my ex-husband last night about a time, years ago, when we invited this guy over to our apartment for some post-bar drinking and smoking. This guy is one of those eccentrics (long scraggly beard, scruffy clothes) but really intelligent ( I think he has audited every class here at the college.) Coincidentally, he is my dad's sister's husband's brother (i.e. my uncle's brother.) We were sailing pretty good, but I really didn't know the guy too well at the time. He's harmless but, as I said, scary to see.

The next day my ex found a note in the spare room. I had scrawled:

If we are ded, the last person to see us alive was Henry's brother.

Yep, D-E-D. Yep, I was all cryptic; I couldn't just say "John."

Makes for a great story!

:D

You know those little bits of pork with bright red on the outside that are in some Chinese dishes? You might find it in lo mein or in egg rolls or fried rice. It's just a sweet barbecue with a lot of red dye.

Anyhow, some years back, my ex decided to make some. S'okay, we had dinner of these barbecued pork bits with psychedelic red sauce, practically glow in the dark. While we are eating, a transient comes walking past the house with overalls covered in paint. Very crusty looking, unwashed for days kinda stuff.

The ex goes out to see what he wants. He wants us to pay him to paint the numbers on our driveway. Our driveway was wood chips and sand. Okay, the curb then? Yer standin on it, buddy, where the grass kisses the road. The ex decides to chat him up while I'm inside with my lips and fingers stained this brilliant red. Then the two of them hit it off so well that the ex invites him to join us for dinner.

I wanted to hose both of them off before they came inside, even though we were eating on the front glassed in porch. It was still in my house, dammit. So there I am serving two crazier than me guys impossibly sweet, impossibly red, and very cold barbecued pork. I had to get both of them to wash up first. Interesting guy. Either one.

The next day, the police were around to warn us of the guy who'd been scamming the neighborhood, and possibly casing the houses.

I can't see a shred of that pork anymore without thinking about that. Kinda ruined it for me, but then anything that outrageous looking has got to be bad for you, eh?

That's what my Mum said when I told her :(
I put the funniest possible spin on it and her first comment was still, "That's what happens when you send late night texts..." Missing the fact it's also what happens when you live alone, drink cheap vodka, switch your phone off and have a good friend that lives too far away to check on you.

It's true - I think sometimes I get your hangovers actually.

That's the frustrating thing - I've actually had cheaper! This was Chekov Vodka. Ahem.

What's with the Scary Men Sharing Hospitality stories? Is this a common American theme?
That's it chaps - I'm packing now and getting on the next plane. If y'all take in frightening strangers at the drop of a hat, what on earth am I doing here working for a living?

Come over! Come over! YAY! :) :) :) :)

Please do. Then we'll find a note in my place saying:

If I am ded, the last people to see me alive were a crazy British girl and a crazy Ohio girl! :p

Pretty much everything.