Today, I woke up with a pretty good case of Zulu-belly...
...or what the locals here call rrrum-belleh (because of the horrid noises one's suffering stomach makes from the shock of needing to sort out one's stupid food choices). So, I couldn't pass up a few meaningless sinful things and now I must suffer like I single handedly crucified Christ? Where's the game in that???
The terrible thing about Zulu-belly is that not only does your life pass in front of you with the painful pre "performance" rumbles but you also get very dizzy and nauseous. This all makes it extremely difficult to make a crucial decision like...what end gets to "perform" first.
I ran the risk of getting a stern "I told you so" if my mother found out so I quietly camped in the thankfully cool guest bathroom for a couple..ok, maybe a few hours for fear of getting over medicated if she caught the whiff of the terrible revenge of Shaka Zulu.