In the middle of the night I woke up with a severe allergic reaction to something. Which, naturally, made me consider the possibility that I would kick it in the night.
So I did what everyone should do when contemplating the possibility of their own demise: I destroyed evidence.
In my twenties I was not a pleasant person. Or at least, not quite the sparkling ray of sunshine which I am now.
Fortunately there is now little left to indicate that.
Well, other than this blog.
No, I don't know what it was that caused that reaction. When I get home this evening I shall inspect various ingredients lists assiduously, and will abstain from casual snacking. And no, I am not allergic to shellfish, peanuts, gluten, or meat. So if anyone suggests I should cut those substances out of my diet precautionarily, just in case, you know, it's better for you, they should expect a loud raspberry, and perhaps an angry lecture on their own moral failings.
The cynical opportunistic ideologues.
Still, what the hell was it?
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THE MISSING PETRI DISH
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