Cows. I do not win.

Had the first weekend get-away with the boyfriend…just returned, actually. Gertie and the apartment are still in tact, in fact both are possibly better than when I left them (thank you dog sitter extraordinaire.) Photos of our trip to come. Yes folks, I went tubing. And I ate a hamburger. A red meat hamburger. (It was a necessary evil. Sometimes telling folks who are already prepared to feed you with specific food, that you don’t eat red meat throws off the galaxy’s orbit. It’s better to just go with the flow in these situations. It’s not like red meat kills me or I’m allergic to it. I just really don’t like it.)  I thought I was doing ok until I tasted something crunchy, which I was then convinced was pieces parts of the cow. Ew. (The boyfriend later informed me it was more likely a peppercorn.) 

For the entire rest of the night I felt like I had a whole moo cow in my stomach. 

 

 

Speaking of cows. The boyfriend and his buddies have this road trip game where the object is to be the first person in the car to see a cow and exclaim “Cows. I win.” The rules are simple: Must be real cows. Must be in a car when win is declared. Game starts over only after car has stopped and restarted again. 

I did not win by pointing to my stomach and saying “Cows. I win.” after I ate the burger.

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4 Comments

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4 responses to “Cows. I do not win.

  1. Ed R

    Hey if he’s gonna make you eat a cow, you ought to be able to claim it as a win.

    Love the graphic!

  2. Ha, good point, Ed. Only he didn’t make me eat it. In fact, he was a little appalled that I was eating it. It was my decision to eat the burger because I didn’t want to cause any issues because “I don’t like red meat.” But after some conversations with friends, I think I can legitimately say I can’t eat red meat anymore. If you haven’t eaten it for as long as I have, it really does not bode well for your digestive system.

  3. Ed R

    Yes, I’ve been through that myself. In much the same situation, except it was with parents and my father’s backyard-grilled steaks. I told them I couldn’t eat that much red meat any more but they didn’t listen….
    sigh. The price of familial peace….

  4. Pingback: Turns out « Queen of Quirky

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