Prose & Poetry

The Curse of Cheetolini

This past Monday I suffered a nasty bout of food poisoning. or was it? Could it be that my body was just ridding itself of the “poison” that is our current political climate? The first indication that I was not at all well was the feeling of gas that felt like I was going to explode. Was this an indication that I could no longer tolerate the gasbag in the white house? Feeling not all sure, or even well enough to seriously contemplate this, I took to my bed. It just made the feeling worse. Even more unnerving was that every time I endeavored to sleep, I’d get the “run don’t walk” signal to get to the bathroom. Suffice to say I didn’t sleep at all that night. Then during one run, I barfed. I barfed ORANGE! ORANGE! and it was then I knew it was indeed the curse of Cheetolini, as I was fine food wise until I ate those damned CHEETOS.

No More!