Dumb ideas gone horribly awry...

I'm in LA this weekend visiting my friend, Ameet. Needless to say, the adventure has been a lovely and well-needed reprieve from the banality of Orange County.

However, upon further reflection, I've realized that Ameet and I come up with horrible ideas. And by "Ameet and I," I mean Stephen dragging Ameet along in blissful compliance.

Anyway, I came up with an exciting series of ideas yesterday. I arrived in LA at approximately 12:30pm; after I unloaded my crap at Ameet's place, we decided lunch was in order. What was I craving? What did I ultimately choose?

Taco Bell.

I ate two burritos, cinnamon twists, and a Dr. Pepper. Tast-y. Dump about a pound of taco bell mild sauce on everything and you have exquisite dining. Well, I didn't dump it on the cinnamon twists. I seriously doubt that would taste right on any level.

At that point, everything was fine. To Wong Foo was blaring in the background (and I mean BLARING; for whatever reason we had the volume set at a hideous high) and we were thoroughly entertained.

Then came the next brilliant idea.

"We should make 4-layer dip* and eat it for dinner!"

*4-layer dip is the picky man's version of 7-layer dip. It involves refried beans, Atun (which is sour cream and taco seasoning mixed together; my former boss, Amanda, and I decided to name it "atun" after tuna in Spanish... drunken nomenclature at its finest), salsa, and shredded cheese (we went for the Mexican mix... plain old cheddar just won't do).

After a considerably short debate, we concluded that there was no better option for a meal. We quickly went to the store and bought the ingredients. Upon our return to the apartment, we went to work on our masterpiece. An hour and half later, the two of us had succeeded in eating 1/2 of the dip. By the end of the night, the dip was gone (thanks to Kenny).

Throw several bottles of wine into the mix and you have the recipe for a disastrous night on the John. I felt like my stomach was angrily clawing its way out my butt. I can sympathize with the man in "Alien" when the alien baby bursts out of his belly. Nobody should experience such pain: alien baby, diarrhea, or otherwise.

Lesson learned, folks: if you ever think to eat a substantial amount of imitation Mexican food and pair it with Chardonnay, you will be in for a brash assault on your GI tract. Your body doesn't deserve it and neither do you.

Learn from my mistakes. Thank you for your time.