food quirk
One of the great tragedies of my life is that I can’t eat cooked onions. I love the smell of them as they are frying in a pan. The way they sizzle with a sizeable dollop of butter, the whole carmelisation process that turns raw onions into something spectacular and makes them such an olfactory delight. I just can’t eat them. Well, I can… and I have… but a short while later I usually regret it.
Essentially, cooked onions affect me in much the same way as a colonic irrigation would. I know, I know - people pay good money for colonic irrigations and I should be grateful I can get the same results much more cheaply. But the thing is, I don’t want my bowel cleansed! I just want to eat some delicious cooked onion without suffering for hours afterward. I’m not saying this food quirk has blighted my life or anything hyperbolically dramatic like that (but I’m sure you can read between the lines and understand that I’m inferring it quite strongly).
In other news, I’m not sure where I stand on turtlenecks. I really don’t like material around my neck too closely. The feeling is icky, like maybe a frail and arthritic octogenarian is trying to strangle me. On the other hand, they do keep necks warm in winter.
Essentially, cooked onions affect me in much the same way as a colonic irrigation would. I know, I know - people pay good money for colonic irrigations and I should be grateful I can get the same results much more cheaply. But the thing is, I don’t want my bowel cleansed! I just want to eat some delicious cooked onion without suffering for hours afterward. I’m not saying this food quirk has blighted my life or anything hyperbolically dramatic like that (but I’m sure you can read between the lines and understand that I’m inferring it quite strongly).
In other news, I’m not sure where I stand on turtlenecks. I really don’t like material around my neck too closely. The feeling is icky, like maybe a frail and arthritic octogenarian is trying to strangle me. On the other hand, they do keep necks warm in winter.