Subtitled: Damn those carbohydrates

What a great game! Congratulations to Peyton and the World Champion Indianapolis Colts! We here in the home of the Chuckster are HUGE Peyton Manning fans which, knowing our college football team allegiance, isn’t all that surprising. We treated yesterday like the holiday it was, eating way too much and having a few too many drinks. At one point my daughter asked me what was so great about Super Bowl Sunday (or SBS from here on out). I was sure to let her know that it’s a bigger deal than Christmas! Of course it was a joke, but still….hello….it’s the Super Bowl, and there is great food, booze and sometimes sex. Unfortunately not this year, but there was a reason for the no sex SBS.

Y’all may remember in the past I’ve talked about how when I religiously participate in a low carb lifestyle I don’t have to do number two all that often? Actually my potty habit drops from six plus times a day to thrice a week, on average. And flatulence? I’m sad to say it just doesn’t happen. Well introduce the carbs again and, in the words of Emeril, BAM! I’m shitting and farting to beat the band. Knowing that yesterday was SBS I pretty much assumed I’d be falling off the carb wagon, so to speak, so I started loading up on Saturday night. Saturday afternoon I made a pot of my famous chili. At first I considered leaving out the beans, but as I stood in the aisle of the supermarket starring at the shelves of beanie goodness I relented and threw a few cans in the cart. Then yesterday our SBS snacking fare consisted of tons of additional gas producing delicacies. By game time I was producing nuclear intensity fart bombs.

After the game Susan and I retired to the bed to watch the post game show and I just assumed we’d be slapping uglies. You see I’m leaving tomorrow for three days, and it had been since Friday night, after all. Given the circumstances, anyone with half a brain would be turning down the lights and turning on the Vandross.

Well Susan got into bed and I positioned myself ever so seductively next to her, on my stomach (clad only in my Old Navy Sleep Bottoms) so I could easily peer into her eyes and kiss her pouting lips. It was just then that I felt that urge. When your body is shocked with the sudden intake of carbs the gas just seems to sneak up on you. Last night was one of those occasions. I lay there on my stomach facing her, hoping the big stinky would go unnoticed or at the least be down played, but I forgot about the fan. You see we sleep with a stand up oscillating fan which is positioned on my side of the bed. It’s used mostly for back ground noise when we sleep, especially this time of the year when it’s butt ass cold outside. Unfortunately last night it was a participant in spreading my noxious odor directly into the face of my lovely wife. Noxious isn’t quite the proper word. I mean Saddam killed thousands with gas less lethal. Needless to say it destroyed the mood and I went to bed unsatisfied. I’m telling you boys and girls, carbs are of the devil. Yep, that’s the moral of this story.

I want to thank all of you who commented and or emailed welcoming me back to the blogosphere. There’s been at least four times over the past weekend that I’ve regretting returning and therefore having to come up with something to write about. Fortunately all this crazy crap just seems to happen to me. Hopefully I’ll be able to continue to use it as future blog fodder.

I’m heading out of town this morning for three days in North Florida. Perhaps I’ll get a chance to update again while I’m there working. If not, well then I guess I’ll holler later in the week! Y’all have a good one!