As I have pointed out repeatedly, I am a white woman from Michigan and grew up in a household where salt was an exotic spice.

When it comes to food, my preferences are firmly lodged in the land of bland.

Last night, I did not sleep well (I had this long horrible dream – and trust me, you don’t want to know).  And in my debilitated stated, I went grocery shopping.

You know I was not paying attention when I picked up HOT LINKS at the supermarket and then actually heated them up (not that they needed to be heated up – these things are self-immolating) for dinner.

Totally oblivious to this cosmic prank, I sat down for my dinner and put what I thought was smoked brat in my unsuspecting mouth.

Every taste bud in my head screamed WT SERIOUS F??????

And this is how stubborn I am – I ate the sausages rather than dump them and cook something else.

Nope.

I cooked one meal, and by god, I would eat it.

My husband was pleasantly surprised, as he is rarely treated to spicy fare.

I was definitely NOT pleasantly surprised.

And I don’t plan on being pleasantly surprised when I am sitting on the toilet tomorrow and these Dante’s links of hellfire make their eventual exit.

As a dear friend used to tell me, if you eat spicy food, always follow it with ice cream.  That way, the next day when you are sweating on the toilet you can pray, “Come on ice cream.”

I am wrapping up now, so I can go get another Klondike bar.  I figure 6 should about do it.