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The Distant Sound of Chunder

by effenheimer at 02:55 PM on February 13, 2003

My old roommate, Pete, was so anal retentive that he could spend $14/week on groceries and be more than satisfied. I never really knew what the phrase "more than satisfied" meant until I saw what I am about to tell you.

Pete would buy Kraft spaghetti dinners. I don't know if they still have these, but they could serve two easily. He would prepare the entire contents with the sauce all mixed in and then pour everything on one huge serving platter of a plate we had. Total cost: $1.25. He would then systematically consume it like a python eating a guinea pig making these gulping gasping heavy breathing sounds like he was drowning in tomato sauce. He was like that fat guy in SEVEN only skinny. He was a world class glutton.

Pete might have been able to spend even less on groceries than he did if he had pasta and sauce separately or even saved half of the Kraft for another meal. But Pete liked the completeness of one box, one pan, one plate...

One night, Pete was busy consuming this huge quantity of spaghetti. Gulp, gulp, slurp, slurp...when he stood up and moved to the bathroon after finishing off 75% of the plate. From the bathroom came the distant sound of chunder!

RAAAALLLLPPPHHH!! Followed by a second less enthusiastic hurl. RAALPH!?

The toilet flushed, water splashed in the sink, and Pete comes out, looks at me looking at him and says, "must've been the beer."

I nearly wet 'em, I nearly did. The man was like a damn dog, but even a dog will stop eating when it is so full it will puke. To top it all off, Pete sits back down and finishes the last 25% of his plate without even blinking. Sweat and tears on his face, straining with the effort, he soaked up the last hint of sauce with a piece of bread and just to complete the cycle of obsessive compulsion, he waddled over to the sink and dropped his plate under the faucet before passing out. God I admired that man's dedication to third rate Italian fare.

We still talk about that incident some 16 years later and Pete refers to it as though it were one of his finest moments. If there were a glutton olympics, I'm sure he'd take the gold in the vomit race.

comments (6)

Kraft Spaghetti dinners. Fine dining in a world of Ramen noodles. If only Kraft could find a way to package a single 50 foot noodle, your friends "python" abilities would have truly been a sight to behold. Ah, memories. Your post has awakened my dormant stomach acid. My buddy Mike and I would always find a way to turn a regular meal into a culinary triathlon, i.e. "I bet you can't eat that cheeseburger, fries, and coke in five bites!" We would stuff ourselves, choking while laughing at each other. One of my "finest moments" was the time we each put away 1 1/2 Large Little Caesars Pizzas. If you know Little Caesars you know these are not 5 pound pizzas, but hey, we each ate 1.5 of them. Sitting in front of the TV with a huge pitcher of Sweet Tea (I live in the South, and yes, Sweet Tea is so important to my life that it should be capitalized), we put that pizza away and could hardly move. Then there's the one time with the 20 oz. cheeseburgers....

by Joseph at February 13, 2003 5:52 PM

We too were on a tight budget in college. We heard about an all-you-can-eat buffet at a church. Every Sunday we'd go there and gorge on a week's worth of calories and then go days without eating. Until the little old ladies who ran it banned my roommate and I. It cost $2.75.

by Anna at February 13, 2003 6:45 PM

A quick question if anyone could help: What are the lyrics to the chorus of Michael Mcdonald's Sweet Freedom? At least the first part ........ shine the light on me.... So it's something like....
Chance to be free...shine the light on me...
I dunno it, but maybe someone older would.

As for that spaghetti ralphing, I can 'empathize' with your friend's obsessive compulsion, If they only had Luvox back then. But now, I could almost get by with just Paxil, which is cool. But I'd rather picture a guy having Necrophiliac sex, then your friend ralphing ChefboyArdee... CHef Boy ARDEEE.... chef Boyiiiiaaardeee... some children chanting in a commercial for the aformentioned, it's creepy and disgusting and malnutririous... I cry for the children, not Him...

by LOCKHEED at February 13, 2003 6:56 PM

Man Lockheed, you are like a car wreck. I can't look away. Someone suggested to me that you deserve to get full author status here. I think that might be too much of a disturbing thing - like the difference between an 11 second horsie sex video and a full blown wide screen horsie sex feature film.

Anyway, the only time I've gotten violently ill as a result of something I ate was back in college, when I went to visit Eviltom. He made a big bowl of spaghetti for him, his GF, me and my GF. For some reason, it didn't make any of them sick, but I spent the night in the bathroom dry heaving while the rest of them were all asleep in the next room. The end.

by mg at February 13, 2003 7:05 PM

Great idea! Lockheed should DEFINITELY get full author status! That would rock! Do I need to start a petition?

by Eviltom at February 13, 2003 7:59 PM

Lockheed should absolutely be granted full-author status.

I'm a good friend of Lockheed's--have been for ten years, and can honestly say he is a genius. If New York was to look like Hiroshima, I'm sure we would be huddled together, smoking a joint as our skin blistered and popped.

Alex, I love you in a way that only we could understand.

Hope I die soon,

by douchenation at February 14, 2003 1:29 AM

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