And in a very specific way. No, I don’t mean emotionally or spiritually. I mean physically. To be more specific, I mean my gastrointestinal tract.
For years, I have heard of and occasionally witnessed from friends and family of the effects of milk and ice cream on their insides. Hours, sometimes entire days were spent in great discomfort and sometimes sheer pain, just to consume a tasty beverage or enjoy a great desert. This comes from a common condition known as lactose intolerance. Now, I’m not one to be intolerant, so I’ve never experienced this crum bum condition. I’m pretty happy about that. Truth is, I’m not that into sweets like ice cream, I tend to prefer my coffee black, I don’t eat cereal, and my dinner beverages of choice trend towards those which sat in a barrel for a while before making it into a bottle. As such, it’s pretty rare to see me having any kind of milk in any capacity, but since I’ve been making my way around a number of foods and drinks to choose some better dietary stables than my old regulars. The latest thing I went to try was something that I’d had before – soy milk.
I’ve had soy milk in the past, but always in small amounts or after cooking or otherwise processing the stuff in ways that, I have heard, gets rid of the problem causing aspects that caught me. But not this time. This time, I had it straight up, and plenty of it. If you’ve ever had it before, you know that the flavors range from soggy cardboard to over-sweetened pixie dust. The carton I had picked up was somewhere in between, sweet and smooth with hints of vanilla without being all cotton candy bullshit. Taste was not an issue. But I apparently have the same relationship with soy milk that so many seem to have with actual milk. I cannot tolerate it. Or at least my guts can’t.
Look, dudes, it’s time to get real about this. That fuckin’ milk hammerfucked my in colon, and left it in ruins for the entire fucking day. A fucking work day. I hit me only minutes after my ass hit the aging cushion of the shitty office chair at my desk. Before I knew it, my intestines were churning, my stomach was burbling, and everything between my esophagus and sphincter was painfully expanding, grinding, and feeling overall as if they would shred themselves. Around lunch time, I started to feel incontinent. I ran home for “lunch”, just to sit down on a familiar thrown near a change of clothes just in case things went all the way wrong. Nothing did go wrong, except that the 20-minute, pained, sweaty bowl dance didn’t clear up the problem and only slightly relieved it for a few moments. At some point, I looked at my watch and said, “Fuck, I gotta get back to work”. Back to work is was, where I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself from myself, switching from project to project, task to task. Cranking up the music and podcasts. Frequent trips to the coffee machine to try and get things moving around. Frequent trips to the restroom in hops that they’d finally gotten moving.
Late that evening, after sitting and lying on my couch in the strangest, most catty-wompus positions I could imagine in failed attempts to bring myself some amount of relief., I eventually ended up in the bathroom and letting lose the gates of hell. As I hadn’t really eaten much that day, it turned out to be almost entirely gaseous. Gross, yeah? Real gross. And real loud. A horrible experience all around.
I went to bed hungry because even though I hadn’t eaten all day, I was far too grossed out by how things ended to imagine eating anything. Frankly, I’m amazed that I didn’t shit myself at any point during the day. I amazing I didn’t start crying from pain at any point during the day. Mostly, I’m amazed that the people I know who experience all of this horror when they have dairy continue to dance with the devil on a regular basis. I can think of foods that I would endure that kind of stomach hate-fucking for, but none of them are dairy based. Don’t get me wrong, I like milk. I like it plenty. Just not enough to go through that shit again.
tl;dr – Soy milk gangbanged my guts with farm equipment and I don’t plan to hang out with it ever again. I have no idea why the lactose intolerant would ever temp those pains for the regular, cow kind. Ice cream is good, but it’s not that good.
No really, what the fuck are you doing with your life that you’ll take that kind of abuse just to eat some sugary, cold, milk?