I can eat a lot, but the older I get, the less I eat. One, it takes five times longer to lose weight than it did 15 years ago. Two, it’s not worth the extra food to feel like dog shit for seven hours after a bender. That said, on occasion, testosterone kicks in.
I went to a restaurant and saw the Mucho Macho Burrito Challenge. If you ate the burrito in 20 mins, it was free. I had a light lunch and was ready to go. As they set the grotesque portion of food in front of me, I noticed it was rather plain. No fixins? No sour cream, lettuce, guac, or tomato? Oh well, I guess the orange stuff works.
I took a huge bite and suddenly realized there was more to the meal than just the normal Mexican fare. My eyes began to water and the interior lining of my stomach melted like I just slammed sulfuric acid. My beer was no match for the burning, so I downed half a water and began eating raw sour cream from my lady’s plate. It turns out, the catch to this challenge was that the baby leg sized burrito was 70% pure habanero peppers.
I tapped out faster than the French army. I had to order another meal, not because I was hungry, but because I needed to dilute the raging burn destroying my already fragile digestive system. I resolved never ever to again engage in such gluttonous behavior…with food. Beer is not food, at least for the purposes of my resolution. The hangover that gets me to scale back beer is the one that kills me dead.