Something very strange has come over me in the last few days. Last night, I was so distracted by the whole "Black Eyed Peas Are the Devil" argument that I forgot to mention that while that debate was raging, I ate my very first ever meatball sub, which I liked very much (thus magically opening the door to Subway for me-- I'd like to apologize to every single person who ever suggested that we go to Subway for dinner, only to receive the famous "Are you suggesting that I eat dog crap for dinner? Because to me, they are the same" look I usually gave to such places).
And now, at work, I am being magnetically drawn to this cheeseball that someone has left in the kitchen. I haven't yet tried the cheeseball, and most likely will not, but I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to resist the cheeseball's charm.
Which is weird, because historically, I hate cheeseballs. In fact, I think I would be opposed to pretty much any partially solid foodstuff that is shaped into a ball and rolled in nuts. I don't really even like cheese and crackers (although I do like Cheez-Its, which are crackers-- go figure), so the idea of digging a Ritz into the side of this partially demolished cheeseball would normally totally gross me out.
But now, as I inspect the cheeseball (which I do every time I go in there for water or some such), I find myself thinking, "that would probably be pretty good."
What is happening to me? Has Ben put some sort of spell on me? Or is it just that I now feel comfortable eating any food that ends in the suffix "-ball"? I don't know. But if you find out that I'm eating fish balls or matzoh balls, you should probably just call the police.
5 pipers piping:
What's next? Baked beans? Mayonaise? Are food phobias not sacred anymore?
Do you remember the bunny cake fiasco at AU? We were all in the kitchen making those damn bunny cakes and Dan ate the raw matzoh ball? I can still remember the look on his face when he said “Kelly, I don’t feel so good.” BAHH. Every single time I see or hear the word matzoh ball I think of that.
Meetball Sub!! Kim, I need to get you to Jersey. There's a little truck by my old high school called "Big Burtha," and they make the best of the bestest, bestity best best Meatball subs. They were so good for hangovers.
Before we know it, you'll be telling us that you're eating all sorts of wild things - pickles! Ketchup! Mustard!! The possibilities are endless. Soon no one will have to immediately adios the side dishes in restaurants!
It's Invasion of the Body Snatcher's Time! Kim is no longer Kim if she is eating at Subway. It's an impostor.
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