White Lightning Axiom: Redux

So, I like moon cakes. You ever have one of those? A traditional Chinese treat that is exchanged at the feast of the harvest moon. Some do not find these very palatable, such as the ever slender Mrs, which only leaves more for me! Knowing my ever questing sweet tooth, the Mrs purchased a pack of 8 mini-mooncakes and basically told me to got to town. I finally was presented with the opportunity to sample these delectable treats yesterday at lunch and eagerly ripped the package asunder. Cradling the first morsel like the most holy communion wafer, it was enveloped by my salivating maw and I began to masticate it with much fervor. Then, the taste hit me. I was so bound up with rapture over this little treasure I failed to inspect the packaging with any great seriousness. In tiny, semi-transparent lettering, was the curse: '55% Durian Mhonthong'. If you have ever run afoul of a rotting corpse of a skunk at the bottom of a 55gallon grease-trap, you have not even scraped the surface of what it means to be of the fruit family Durian. No cry of anguish would suffice for the disappointment and dismay of my poor little taste-buds. The ripped themselves out by their roots and flung themselves down my throat just for a momentary escape from this abomination. And there I stood, gnashing away like a garbage truck in hopes of disposing of this epicurean menace as quickly as possible. Being who I am, I swallowed the mess. Tactical error. Big time. For the rest of the day, the gaseous upper digestive emanations of the fermenting wad lodged deep within my guts haunted me like prison yard tattoo. Worse yet, my attempts to drown the vile beastie with coffee and bleach only spread it to my kidneys and badder. I was reminded of this hapless effort every time I had to pee. This was about every 15 minutes. I can only come to one conclusion about the Durian and it's admirers: It will certainly overshadow the most vile body odor and swaddle the recidivist drunkard from 18th century Paris a pristine cloak of white in comparison when set next to the Durian Eaters. Ghaaa!

Less gut-wrenching news: Swimming with kids went well. Our old-lady friends were back and interrogated the Tyrants as to what presents they received. The kids were a bit off since they had not been to the pool in nearly 2 weeks. It was showing. Fat little punks. Okay, yeah, they are about as muscular and lean as you would ever want a 4yr old to be. Their attitude was surly punkish and fat though. Onward, karate went as good as it could have and Jake got a little sit-down with the master about his surly and inattentive behavior. He is so OCD about keeping his eyes on things going on about him. This is why we are in the class to start with. He'll get there, he's just a little boy yet. That stripe is coming, I'll just have to spend a bit more time with him than Alexis. Of course, Alert Alexis has already mastered her first three forms and is starting in on #4. I just managed that one! I supposed I'll have to cheat and read up on #5. I stuck around for the adult class afterwards and got the kid-glove treatment. I suppose falling to the ground when I tried to support my weight on the bum leg got me a healthy slice of sympathy. If I keep this up, Alexis will be telling me to do push-ups when she gets her Orange belt before me.

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