**Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
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The Missus and I were at a friend of ours grandparents house one day, and we decided we were going to do some fishing. We went down to the dock, and the fish happened to be going crazy, and we wound up catching quite a few, so we were gone a while.
During this time, I guess our friends grandmother thought we'd be getting hungry, so she decides to make us some pizza. We saunter back into the house, on kind of a fishers high, if you will, and we wait for her to pull the pizza out of the oven.
I'm pretty sure that it was frozen pizza, but I don't remember the specific kind. This was because she'd taken the liberty of "customizing" it for us. She'd taken whatever she could find lying around and sprinkled some of it on the pizza. My favorite though, and soon to be my enemy, was the chicken chunks.
Frozen pizza cooks at about 425 degrees for about 15 to 25 minutes, depending on the type of pizza. Frozen CHICKEN, on the other hand, usually requires deep frying, which is my personal favorite, or it needs about an hour in the oven. However, when I saw the chicken on the pizza, none of that crossed my mind.
I have a thing about textures in my mouth. (TWSS) I can't stand fat off of a steak, or gristle off of chicken. It's just disgusting. My gag reflex kicks in, and I can't swallow. I just sit until I can spit it out, or if I sit there long enough, I will throw up. I also take WAY to big of bites of my food. All this wound up turning into a disaster.
She lays this pizza out, and I grab a slice. I ain't bashful, and I ain't chivalrous with food. I take this biggest bite I can get, but still try to be polite about it. I bite down and.......gristle. That's what I thought at first. It was rubbery, and my teeth, activated by my gag reflex, stopped not even a quarter of the way through the bite. I got a feeling similar to what MTV gets when they realize Kayne West has shown up at one of their functions.
Here's the dilemma. I am at a GUESTS table. An old guest. An old guest who would probably take offense at the fact that I'm going to leave the table mid bite, or spit out the contents of my overloaded mouth into a table napkin. So I sat there. Contemplating. All the while, the half chewed lump of gristle is just sitting there, kind of digesting in my saliva....just sitting there. Being gristly.
I made up my mind. I'm going to do this. It's just gristle. I very forcefully close my jaw down all the way....
Oh my god. It's not cooked.
I will tell you this, I manned up. It took me 10 minutes to eat that bite of pizza. Have you ever eaten a raw piece of chicken that has been sitting in your mouth for 10 minutes? Yeah... I chewed and chewed, chewed and chewed, until I thought I was going to die. I ATE that raw piece of chicken. Cold, rubbery, and chewy. I can't tell you how hard it was. (TWSS) I wanted to cry. But I got through it, and I ate more pizza. I avoided the chicken pizza though. So did The Missus. She noticed my little problem, and I guess she decided she didn't need that.
Our friend though? He never noticed. He at about 5 pieces of that pizza, and never blinked. Now folks, I know that wasn't healthy. I also know it HAD to have registered in his mind that he was eating raw chicken. The only thing I can think of is that he was so USED to eating raw chicken, that it didn't even register.
That, my TMI brethren, is how I ate a raw piece of chicken. I hope you are thoroughly disgusted. Enjoy your lunch!