I'm blogging about goulash. Imagine, if you will, a, b, c.
You will never feel the same about it, once it goes through your nose.
Marinated with tapatio, cayenne pepper, garlic salt, spices.
Especially when it goes through your nose multiple times.
Trust me.
It was only a small bowl, maybe a handful or a little more.
But it produced, perhaps, a gallon of byproduct. Who knows?
Only the toilet will ever know.
How is that even possible?
Only the toilet knows.
Got a blueberry icee from ampm -
in the am, there was blue in the toilet bowl.
*breathe* Only the toilet knows,
my sorrows, my woes, my lunch.
Forever in the pipes of life, only the toilet knows.
About me and goulach.
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