Eating. Rose. Meow.

I recall telling you the story of how I ate a rosebud sometime in the past but I can't seem to find the post and so I will assume I didn't. Somehow in the midst of final exam studying madness this story popped into my head.

For some reason or another (actually I know the reason but it's just too random/weird/occult to confess on the internets) I had to eat a rosebud. Yes, a rosebud. Somewhat against my will. And very much against my better judgement.

Anyway, here I was sitting on the floor at the apartment we rented for a while in Singapore during certain eventful times of my life I rather hate to relive, with a rosebud in one hand, and 5 people looking at me waiting for me to munch on it.

And so I did.

Nom.

Nom.

Nom.

Little did I know that the I didn't really have to munch on the whole damn thing, just the petals. Don't ask why, I won't tell (and I really don't know myself). And so I accidentally the whole economy (lol jkz) I accidentally ate all the stamens and fugness and bitter shit and so I was gagging to death but see I was still obliged to eat it. I asked the person if I could spit if out but he obviously he said no and he went and got me a glass of water to help it down.

You know how much I hate drinking water on its own, but I took a gulp anyway. Turns out the genius got me a cup of warm water (YUCK) and so now swirling around in my mouth was a warm soupy mixture of rosy filth.

Joy.

I almost lost control of my mouth and spat it all out but that would have had very unfortunate consequences and so somehow I managed to force myself to swallow it all, even though I was almost about to cry from how unfortunate the feeling was in my mouth (urgh the taste still torments me).

So, basically, the moral of the story is, if you offer me sugar-crusted candied rose petals, please don't be offended when I say, "f*ck off."

:)