Maybe I need to be a Vegetarian

So last week in LA, I was on my way to a recording session for Mixed Nutz, and I was running a tad late.  However, I had not eaten a thing all day and conveniently went through a Wendy’s drive through near my destination.  I ordered a chicken sandwich and I was on my way.  What happened next has never happened to me before, nor did I think it was possible.  I took my first bite into the sandwich and felt as if someone was soldering my lower lip ala 7th grade shop class (aka brute force and no hand control with the iron).  I realized that the damn sandwich burned me.  This was no incident I thought was blog worthy, let alone to tell anyone publicly (War Veteran: “I got this battle scar fighting off the German Battalion : Harvin: “I got this from a spicy chicken sandwich”).

However, a few days after, I find myself with a continuously-slow-bleeding-mini-open wound, that hurts all day and will hardly let me open my mouth, kinda like the Bush administration over the past 7 years.  This led me to two conclusions.  Either this is a sign from God telling me to become a vegetarian, or we’ve discovered a new torture mechanism in Guantanemo Bay.  Could you imagine?  Being famine after being detained by Homeland Security after accidentally putting your girlfriend’s Heavenly Divine lotion in your baggage, getting hauled to Git-mo with no inflight food service…and being a presented a Spicy Chicken Sandwich from Wendy’s when you arrive, only to find out after the first bite that you’ve been branded in the face.

Maybe it’s all promotional, just a way to add a red freckle on your face like the Wendy’s girl.

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