An Unfriendly Dialogue with a Mexican

Hey everyone, how was your weekend? Mine was good for various reasons, including but by no means limited to my ingestion of Mexican themed mastication products of various bean-esque natures. I like to think of the digestion process as a dialog between the food we eat and our digestive system, beginning with taste and ending in the bi-product we all love the most: poop.

This was last nights dialogue

“Hello Chicken Nachos”

“Hello tongue, I see the taste buds are on top again”

“Yes, they’re very clingy’

“riiiight (freaks)”

“You don’t seam poisonous, let me roll you into a ball and shove you down the oesophagus”

“Cool”

“AAAAAAH’ *splat*

“Welcome to Che Stomach. My name is Pepsin, I’ll be your digestive enzyme for the evening”

“Can I get a wine list”

“He doesn’t drink”

“riiight, *freak*

“How about a menu?”

“Sure, would you like to hear the specials”

“Sure”

“Tonight we have digested Chicken Nacho on a bed of stomach acid”

“Really, I think not”

And from then on, the two have been duelling, and each time they clash I’m the collateral damage, totally un-cool.

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