Get your gasoline, beer and Marlboros here, but NOT your burritos.

Perhaps it is too obvious to be a cautionary tale, but it wasn’t a good decision to eat the $2 spicy beef and bean burrito from Speedway.  I paid for that all of Saturday night and a good part of Sunday.  Who needs those expensive colon cleanse kits, or even White Castles for that matter?

I don’t eat prepackaged food very often.  Most of the time if I want burritos I make them at home with refried beans, whole wheat tortillas, ground spicy turkey, sour cream, cheddar cheese, onions, salsa, etc.  I know what’s in them that way.

Tonight will probably be a salad night.  It’s hot.  Either that or Spam sandwiches.  Nothing wrong with Spam, at least not the meat product.  Grill it with a slice of American cheese, some onion and tomato on wheat bread with mustard and it’s not half bad.

Grandpa used to love this stuff.  And chicken necks.   He lived to be 91, so it couldn’t have been that bad.

I can think of a lot of different things that probably would offend my colon less than that burrito.  Like Dran-o.

As far as the condition of my mind and heart at the moment, it’s not as bad as it could be.  It’s not as good as it could be either, but the pragmatist in me finds such a condition oddly acceptable.

A little bit of melancholy and pensiveness is good for the soul.

I have to watch spending too much time there, though, because for me melancholy can become full blown depression very quickly and easily.    I have a twisted sense of humor for a reason, and most of the time that reason is because if I don’t laugh about the idiocy and injustice and pain and fear in this world I would have to cry.  If I really start in crying, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.