Day 57: Try food that scares you.

There are no foods that scare me.

Of course, this is partly because there are things which other people eat that I don’t classify as food, like balut and stinkheads. And brains. And pig feet. Octopus. Cheez-whiz. Hot dogs. These things don’t scare me, they disgust me. Maybe I’m sophisting my way out of something, but I don’t think so. Or care.

I will admit that I find baby corns uncanny – in the Freudian sense – for reasons I can’t explain. I eat them, on occasion, usually when my dad puts them in stew, but it always feels a bit odd, like the baby corn might attack me.

You know what scares me? Raw ground beef. Undercooked pork. Raw fish from the local fishin’ hole. Leftover pizza that’s been on the counter for a few weeks.

In short: food that will fucking kill me, or at least give me a nasty parasite. And you know what? I’m not eating anything like that. Sorry, dear Book. I like my guts the way they are. I’m not introducing any foreign flora, not for you, not for anyone. Not if my life depended on it.


I did eat a turkey sandwich for lunch today. That was pretty scary.


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