Today I made myself horribly ill. I also lost fifty bucks. That's fifty Canadian dollars, not the peanuts you call USD.
Picture this. I am sitting on the couch reading Dostoevsky in the original Russian (playing Viva Pinata on the x-box) with my bone china teacup of freshly steeped peppermint herbal tea sitting on the butler tray in front of me (bottle of pepsi shoved under a thigh) and idly pondering how utterly fantastic and gorgeous I am (utterly fantastic and gorgeous).
B puts on a classical piece by Gorecki for both of us to enjoy (starts singing She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy while in the shower) and enquires shortly after if I would mind if he grilled some lemon pork and whipped up some fresh tzatziki for lunch (yells his intention to go get burgers and fries from within said shower). With the menu settled, I decide that I'm a tad peckish right then and wonder aloud if I should munch on something (munch on something).
B stops and stares for a full minute, and then points out that lunch is only 20 minutes away at the most. Clearly living with the guy for 10 years has fucked with his memory, because I don't recall giving him the impression I am anything but a gourmet (pig). And I remind him that I am fully capable of eating some snackfoods en masse without ruining my appetite. Like nuts. He went with the childish man giggle because I said "nuts", and I patiently began to smack talk...boasting of all the times I had trained myself for this very moment with dim sum events through my history.
"You will make yourself ill, sweetheart."
("I'm not cleaning up puke, you heathen.")
"Darling, I am capable of judging my stomach capacity."
("Fuck you, I'm not a heathen. I have a delightful appetite you cock.")
"Your silence speaks volumes, my dear."
("You are such a manboy.")
"Shall we place a friendly wager on your ability?"
("Fifty bucks says you can't eat a bag of pistachios.")
"Not only am I willing to take your money, I can eat two bags of pistachios."
("Not only am I willing to take your money, I can eat two bags of pistachios.")
"I'm sure you can, but just one bag will suffice. The non-red ones."
("I'm sure you can, but one bag'll do. Just not the red ones or you'll get it everywhere.")
And thus the wager was set. Soon after, he came home with a bag. Of nuts. From the bulk aisle. One kilogram. That fucker.