When food fights back

I nearly died yesterday. Oh yes. I nearly choked to death on a piece of meat*.

I have decided that is not the way I want to go out: far too embarrassing. "Yeah, my mum choked to death on a piece of meat."

I laughed heartlessly at George W Bush's pretzel incident**. To prove that I have not learnt humility from my own experience, I still have no sympathy at all and lean to the view that the pretzel could have tried a bit harder in its assassination attempt. Honestly, weak-willed bread-product, where was your training, your grit?

I am actually much chastened by the incident and only relieved that I managed to avoid the necessity of the Heimlich manouevre, just. I did virtually vomit on my plate, which was nice for my dining companions.

I think I should like to drop dead like my dad, although not so young. I don't think dragging on like my gran is for me. Suddenly, unpredictably, just when you're least expecting it, that's when to do it, I reckon. But not by choking on a piece of meat, that just takes out all the drama and turns it comedic. I want drama.



*I am trying not to make any double entendres but it's really hard... Oh there I go again.
**Oh dear, I'm laughing all over again at George Bush's pretzel incident.