Bitter Rivalry of the Week: My stomach vs. My Face

Hey trees, how about you clean up after yourselves?

Hey trees, how about you clean up after yourselves?

As the trees continue their jerky behavior by littering all their leaves on the ground, and not picking up after themselves, as the grass continues to die a slow painful death, and as the snowman continue to be wait in icy cold anticipation for the weather to be just right for them to come out an play, we all know, Winter in Coming.  Right Game of Thrones?

Winter is coming.

Winter is coming.

Actually, I don’t know, I’ve never seen Game of Thrones, but I’ve heard that winter is coming.  You know what else is coming?  A bitter battle for the top half of my body. There has always been a battle brewing there.

There is the top part of my face, Bitter Mouth, is absolutely no good at  saying words except, “Leave me alone”, “Go away”, and “Bensbitterblog.com, go check it out”.  The teeth storage unit is very much opposed to anything but the absolutely most necessary words.  When it comes to food entering Bitter Mouth, there is a bouncer with very specific instructions watching the place.  He only allows the very coolest and swaggy foods to come to the party.  Cheese, pizza, cheese pizza, pepperoni, pepperoni pizza, and bagels, with cheese.  Chocolate, candy bars, and brownies can come but only if they bring milk as a date.  Lame party pooper foods like kale, salad, broccoli, black beans, oats, lentils, and sprouts are strictly prohibited.

If you are kale, "You Shall Not Pass!"

If you are kale, “You Shall Not Pass!”

Bitter Stomach is a hot mess.  He is a non stop talker, constantly digesting things, making noise, causing havoc.  He is the kid standing in front of the refrigerator, saying, “I’m hungry. There’s nothing to eat. Make me a sandwich.”  He wants Bitter Mouth to give him cookies and cake, but then when mouth sends it right down, he complains that he wants kale and beans.  First he is “starving”, then he’s too full.  The guy just can’t make up his mind, and he’s never content.  Mouth is always trying to tune him out, but stomach is so relenting, stomach always gets his way.  Either way, stomach is a jerk.  If you don’t feed him, he will whine and complain.  If you do feed him, he will grow and become bloated.  He is a lose/lose situation.

Bitter Stomach is a Hot Mess.

Bitter Stomach is a Hot Mess.

So, which guy is a bigger Bitter jerk? Bitter Stomach, or Bitter Mouth? Who causes you the most pain? Who do they think they are?

ARRRRGGGGHHHHH

Bitter Battle of Stomach and Mouth Ben

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42 thoughts on “Bitter Rivalry of the Week: My stomach vs. My Face

  1. My stomach quite literally causes the most pain! It tells me that anything too greasy sucks real bad, and rejects anything remotely like instant noodles… including KD.

    But I WANT to eat the whole bag of Miss Vickie’s chips!

    Then I give in and my stomach hates me, but only then does my face break out – the actual skin – and then I remember my stomach actually doesn’t want shit.

    But then it tells me again, it wants cheese pizza and chips and fries. The cycle never ends!

    Thanks for the entertaining read, it was lots of fun!

    Like

  2. I haven’t seen Game of Thrones or read the books. But I did play the pinball machine yesterday. If you lose the ball right away, it gives you another chance, and it shows this by animated on the scoreboard screen a dragon flying up and grabbing a pinball. It doesn’t say how you get a pinball out of a dragon’s mouth without getting bitten or swallowed yourself, though.

    I guess what I’m saying is if I were swallowed by a dragon I don’t know if it’d be better to give it a sore stomach or not. Part of me would want to at least be a classy meal. The rest of me would be annoyed and wanting to get back at it.

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  3. Oh boy did I like this post! My bitter mouth causes me nothing but trouble, largely because it won’t shut the hell up! And bitter stomach, what a BITCH! And she gets to be a bigger bitch almost daily. Except for today, when I went to put on a new pair of leggings (purchased because that was easier than a bitter trip to the laundromat — don’t get me started!), chosen with attention to the size chart on the package, only to find out that the damn things were too big! What the hell was that all about? Bitter mouth has been complaining about that all morning.

    Like

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