mean beans

Okay, now what the hell is wrong with me?

I'm just about to finally get over the flu thingy, and now I'm back with a tummy trouble. And it all started yesterday noon, at Mark's.

We were there at his place to watch the live footy game on the telly, with him and his brother. And Mark being a good host and a great cook he is, would always prepared a nice hot lunch. This time it was some meat stew cooked together with beans. LOTS of beans.

Now.. BEANS. Somehow, that name sort of rings a bell.. as if it triggers some not-so-distant unpleasant memories to this yours truly.

*insert flashback music here*

You see, in our last trip to Paris sometime in October last year, on one of the nights there, we decided to be adventurous and really eat like the locals. And when I said locals, it wasn't just your average french cuisine; it was the North African/Algerian cuisine, since the hotel where we were staying at is located smack in a middle of a district, where melting pot of people from different ethnicities and background live, work and play.

After over-coming our usual language barrier in ordering our meals, the waiting game starts, and eventually our meals arrived. Mine was a hot bowl of beans soup. Hmmmm.. My instinct instantly told me that maybe this wasn't quite a good idea after all to start with.

To cut the story short, I ate the soup as much as I could, since I was quite hungry that night, especially after a full-day walking around the romantic city, and a bowl of hot soup didn't sound so bad at all considering it was a chilly autumn night there to boost.

Oh boy.. BAD mistake.

The next morning, I was feeling a tad bit queesy and bloated in the tummy. Gassy I guess. Kembung perut masuk angin, that's how my mom would describe it.

And of course, the fishy tapas meal I had for lunch the next day, in this nice tiny Spanish restaurant (in France!) didn't quit agree with the beans soup I had the night before. So there you go.. it feels like I had Bombay Delhi^ belly right in the heart of Paris. Suh-weet. Heh.

Luckily, the fact that I restrain myself from eating anything serious for the next 24-hours after that, helps minimise my tummy trouble.. and managed to let me enjoy the remainder of our trip there.

*flashback music ends*

Now back to the main story.

Back at Mark's, I knew I should have restrain myself from eating too much of the beans stew, but somehow, being the idiot that I am, I pigged out myself. After all, it was a delicious meal!

Let's just say Sunday afternoon ended on a high note, despite our team the West Coast Eagles boys lost to the Sydney Swans, after putting up a good decent fight, at the SCG.

Today on the other hand was a whole different story. Not only, my tummy was bloated (started last night before I went to bed), I was also feeling all queesy in my throat, as if i'm going to throw up.

And then I had THE incident too.

Well you know, when you get all gassy, people tend to fart a lot too. Except this time, a little tiny unwanted surprise decided to tag along. Not much though, since FORTUNATELY, I've already been to the toilet like TWICE that morning. So nothing major came out (*phew!*), but the smelly pong that came with it was really enough to knock me off and faint for hours.

Thanks a LOT you bloodyfreakin' Mr Beans.

Luckily, I was at home, so a quick change of clothes ensued, and like all good husband I decided to do my laundry early, this week! Haha..

Boy.. what a day it has been. Bean? :-P

This proves it all.
After 32-wonderful-years growing up, I finally found out that I'm beans-intollerant.

With all pun intended:
I shouldn't have bean eating those bloodyfuckin' BEANS in the first place.
And of course, I could also claim that I HAVE really bean there, done that!

Ewwww.. NOT a pretty sight, I tell ya'!

*****

^EDITED 3rd August 2005: After I double-checked it with hubby.. Hehe!