Last Sunday night I made a pot of black beans at home, and they were a bit pungent between the vinegar, poblano peppers, all the jalapenos, and the salt and the cumin.
I left the pot out to cool over night, and when I got up from reading in bed to take a piss, I stirred the pot further to let the heat distribute out more evenly, and even ate a big wooden spoonful of beans.
Monday morning, like an hour before my alarm went off, I kept getting this sense that someone was rubbing their sweaty armpit all up in my face, and it kept getting more and more intense, and I was rolling around in bed from side-to-side.
Then, when I work up with a shock, I realized it was just the aftertaste of beans in my mouth, the taste of which I had re-interpreted as smell.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
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