Last night I went to bed with a hot fudge sundae.
I laid down and the sundae in my belly felt like
a Humvee packed with anvils parked on my solar
plexus. Inside, all my little furnace-stokers, insulin-
makers, fat-wranglers, circulation-pumpers and
cholesterol-making sleaze bags were sweating and
cursing, forced to labor at their work long past
quitting time. But they set-to with their crushers,
fire-bombs, acids, siphons and flushers, and finally
got the Humvee reduced to rubble about 2:30 AM.
and I could finally fall asleep. But when I woke in
the morning, I found my tiny gut-crew had sausage-
wrapped my belly with fluorescent yellow crime-
scene tape and posted a sign that read in giant type…
No Parking! Hot fudge sundaes, this means you!
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