Commit seppuku with a Frisbee
On Tuesdays I have to work, then drive to a class, then drive back to work, and then drive over an hour to another class. It's an eighteen hour day that requires a trunkload of bags, several changes of clothes, and a Wednesday set aside solely for sleeping (that is, right after work in the morning). I'm not allowed breaks either, so I have to eat quickly in the car. Last Tuesday, while I scarfed Wendy's fries as is my wont, I began choking. Choking is bad enough but choking while driving is frightening. After several seconds I luckily cleared my throat, though I didn't know how. Suddenly I began sneezing uncontrollably. And hard. The sneezing forced me to convulse and that doesn't help my driving abilities, either.
I couldn't stop--sneezing or traveling down Interstate 90--and I didn't know what to do. Grabbing a napkin I plugged one nostril and then blew as hard as I could. Then the unspeakable happened.
Ladies and gentlemen, A FRENCH FRY CAME OUT MY NOSE. Not in pieces, the whole thing. An inch-and-a-half long, rectangular potato. Somehow, that french fry went down my throat, then up my throat, all the way to my brain, poking my sinuses, and out my nasal cavity.
Covered in goo! I didn't take a picture.
Instead, here's how to put batteries in your mouth.
Next week's experiment: hot dogs. Can I do it?