Greetings. FROM HELL.
I don't know how much time I've got here, so I'm only going to cover one of the many subjects that'll eventually make it to the jumbo-sized entry that I post when I get back.
...*sigh*...
I love food. Scratch that. I used to love food. There were few things that'd make me happier than a good meal with good friends. All that changed when I got here.
Upon my arrival to my grandmother's house, she immediately noted that I looked starved and that something needed to be done about this. I didn't necessarily hold this against her. You see, the healthy, ideal man here is happy (in theory) and rounded, so Gramma must have imagined the worst when she saw me.
...That, or he had darker, more vile plans in that cute-old lady head of hers. You see, my grandmother is an evil woman to everyone that isn't one of her granchildren. She's eighty six, but she still rules the neighborhood with an iron fist from her fortress. I do not doubt that she has plans to one day rule the world. Part of this plan may or may not include blowing me up to the size of a beluga whale.
...Judging by the events that have transpired over the last few weeks, I'm inclined to believe the former.
Ever since I got here, I have not been allowed to stop eating. I'm made to eat anywhere from four to six (and on some days, even eight) huge meals a day, and resistance is usually futile. I'll plot out an average meal for you, just to give you a picture of how these things work.
[Begin Meal]
'Blash: *sits down*
Gramma: *grins the cute old lady grin, rushes to my plate and speeds faster than light, and dumps my body weight in food onto the plate*
'Blash: *stares helplessly
'Blash: ...Can't...eat...this...much... (My Malayalam isn't very good, so it's usually pretty tough for me to speak it. Making coherent sentences is hell, I tell you!)
Gramma: Oh, my dear, sweet grandchild! Look at you, wasting away in your chair. You're so small, so tiny, so delicate. We can't have this. You need to be big! Huge! Intelligent! Eat up, my son! You need this! I need this! Together, we can make you HUGE!
'Blash: *starts eating*
Gramma: *motions to the maid*...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?...*points to 'Blash's plate*...DO YOU SEE THAT?!? DO YOU SEE THAT?!? THERE IS AN EMPTY SPOT ON MY GRANDSON'S PLATE! HURRY UP WOMAN! MY GRANDSON IS STARVING! PUT FOOD THERE! NOW! OR ELSE!
'Blash: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
[Maid dumps more food on my plate]
'Blash: *winces*
Gramma: *motions at the other people on the table*...Look at that! Look at that! He looks so happy! Oh, what a great day to be a grandmother! Life is so beautiful!
'Blash: *starts getting full, and starts forcing his food down*
Gramma: *glares at the maid*...STUPID MAID! LOOK AT MY GRANDSON! HE IS IN PAIN! HE'S GETTING FULL BECAUSE YOU DID NOT PUT ENOUGH FOOD ON HIS PLATE! YOU STUPID WENCH! NOW HE'S GOING TO STARVE BECAUSE OF YOU! QUICK! GET MORE FOOD ON HIS PLATE BEFORE HIS APPETITE DISAPPEARS ALTOGETHER!
'Blash: ...Can't...eat...anymore...I'm...full...
Gramma: *starts to tear up*...Ah, look at me. I'm old and I'm wasting away. I'm dying, my son. Look at me. I was a great woman once. Now I'm old and frail. My only joy is watching you eat. Would you deny me that, my dear? Would you be so cold as to deny a dying woman her only wish?
'Blash: ...No...
Gramma: GOOD! EAT THEN! WENCH! MORE FOOD! YOU'VE ONLY EATEN ABOUT TWICE YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN FOOD! ANOTHER TWO POUNDS CAN'T HURT!
'Blash: *passes out*
Gramma:: *glares hatefully at the maid*...Mark my words. You will die for this, you stupid maid. If he isn't eating by the end of the hour, I will wipe your family from existence...*pats 'Blash gently*...You did well, child. I love you. Now come back in another thirty minutes, and you can eat some more.
'Blash: *dies*
And that, folks, is the slighty exaggerated account of what I've been going through four to six times a day since getting here. Ugh. Thank the stars for my metabolism.
Anyway. I have to go. I'm out of time. If you're reading this, chances are that I miss you.
*hugs you all*
BYE!
*runs off*
...*sigh*...
I love food. Scratch that. I used to love food. There were few things that'd make me happier than a good meal with good friends. All that changed when I got here.
Upon my arrival to my grandmother's house, she immediately noted that I looked starved and that something needed to be done about this. I didn't necessarily hold this against her. You see, the healthy, ideal man here is happy (in theory) and rounded, so Gramma must have imagined the worst when she saw me.
...That, or he had darker, more vile plans in that cute-old lady head of hers. You see, my grandmother is an evil woman to everyone that isn't one of her granchildren. She's eighty six, but she still rules the neighborhood with an iron fist from her fortress. I do not doubt that she has plans to one day rule the world. Part of this plan may or may not include blowing me up to the size of a beluga whale.
...Judging by the events that have transpired over the last few weeks, I'm inclined to believe the former.
Ever since I got here, I have not been allowed to stop eating. I'm made to eat anywhere from four to six (and on some days, even eight) huge meals a day, and resistance is usually futile. I'll plot out an average meal for you, just to give you a picture of how these things work.
[Begin Meal]
'Blash: *sits down*
Gramma: *grins the cute old lady grin, rushes to my plate and speeds faster than light, and dumps my body weight in food onto the plate*
'Blash: *stares helplessly
'Blash: ...Can't...eat...this...much... (My Malayalam isn't very good, so it's usually pretty tough for me to speak it. Making coherent sentences is hell, I tell you!)
Gramma: Oh, my dear, sweet grandchild! Look at you, wasting away in your chair. You're so small, so tiny, so delicate. We can't have this. You need to be big! Huge! Intelligent! Eat up, my son! You need this! I need this! Together, we can make you HUGE!
'Blash: *starts eating*
Gramma: *motions to the maid*...WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?...*points to 'Blash's plate*...DO YOU SEE THAT?!? DO YOU SEE THAT?!? THERE IS AN EMPTY SPOT ON MY GRANDSON'S PLATE! HURRY UP WOMAN! MY GRANDSON IS STARVING! PUT FOOD THERE! NOW! OR ELSE!
'Blash: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
[Maid dumps more food on my plate]
'Blash: *winces*
Gramma: *motions at the other people on the table*...Look at that! Look at that! He looks so happy! Oh, what a great day to be a grandmother! Life is so beautiful!
'Blash: *starts getting full, and starts forcing his food down*
Gramma: *glares at the maid*...STUPID MAID! LOOK AT MY GRANDSON! HE IS IN PAIN! HE'S GETTING FULL BECAUSE YOU DID NOT PUT ENOUGH FOOD ON HIS PLATE! YOU STUPID WENCH! NOW HE'S GOING TO STARVE BECAUSE OF YOU! QUICK! GET MORE FOOD ON HIS PLATE BEFORE HIS APPETITE DISAPPEARS ALTOGETHER!
'Blash: ...Can't...eat...anymore...I'm...full...
Gramma: *starts to tear up*...Ah, look at me. I'm old and I'm wasting away. I'm dying, my son. Look at me. I was a great woman once. Now I'm old and frail. My only joy is watching you eat. Would you deny me that, my dear? Would you be so cold as to deny a dying woman her only wish?
'Blash: ...No...
Gramma: GOOD! EAT THEN! WENCH! MORE FOOD! YOU'VE ONLY EATEN ABOUT TWICE YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN FOOD! ANOTHER TWO POUNDS CAN'T HURT!
'Blash: *passes out*
Gramma:: *glares hatefully at the maid*...Mark my words. You will die for this, you stupid maid. If he isn't eating by the end of the hour, I will wipe your family from existence...*pats 'Blash gently*...You did well, child. I love you. Now come back in another thirty minutes, and you can eat some more.
'Blash: *dies*
And that, folks, is the slighty exaggerated account of what I've been going through four to six times a day since getting here. Ugh. Thank the stars for my metabolism.
Anyway. I have to go. I'm out of time. If you're reading this, chances are that I miss you.
*hugs you all*
BYE!
*runs off*