Sheldon Cooper
(One of my sillier poems. Inspired by a weekly ritual at college, which always had an iffy aftermath.)
Arriving once a month
Scheduled
By a demented madman
The night begins
With the innocent feast
Replicas of food
From a foreign land
Drenched in sauces
That range from soup
To liquid fire
It is a hearty meal
That breaks the monotony
But many go too far
There is no warning
For those around
No sign that bombs
Are ticking in some gullets
Hours will pass
Before the truth sets in
The hallway reeks
Of unmentionable odors
Seeping
From beneath locked doors
Bathrooms are transformed
Into putrid gas chambers
Many will find seclusion
Fearing the roaming stench
Never knowing
If their roommate is another bomb
Gurgling in wait
About to melt the posters
Barely hanging on the walls
With a single burst
The night will pass
Leaving shameful stories
Told over a safer meal
Such is the cycle
That begins and ends
With the dreaded
Taco Night
Legends of Windemere 
jalapenos and refried beans are a lethal combo, even with the sour cream ‘calmer’ 😱
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That’s why ‘Mexican’ night at the college cafeteria was so deadly.
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This made me laugh, Charles. For us, it’s the Indian food night!
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Glad you enjoyed it.
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Ha ha ha. I remember (and I know this will come as a shock) lighting farts after a big taco event. Lights down and lovely blue methane flames. So many laughs.
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I’ve heard of people doing that. Never seen it in action. Don’t think I’d want to either. Sounds like it can result in a nasty backdraft.
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There were some of those. Lost the underwear.
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Yep. Taco night! I usually top that off with chocolate ice cream for dessert, which makes things worse!
Great poem!
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Ouch. These days I make sure tacos are on their own. This old stomach can’t handle the abuse it used to.
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Reblogged this on NEW BLOG HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Thanks. 😊
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Ha! I loved this one.
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Thanks. 🙂
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