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Subject: I've been told all my life "I bet you can't eat just one" rss

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Andy Andersen
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Lay's Potato Chip. But everyone was wrong. I have eaten only one.

But I cannot eat just one pistachio nut.

Impossible.

Not gonna happen.



AWESOME


Any foods you can only eaten one of?
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Mystery McMysteryface
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Chocolate
Peanut butter
Cookies
Pretzels
Chocolate milk
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Robert Wesley
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Yes, ONLY one of them funky, over-sized 'grapefruit'-thingies, what are they called again? It was such a 'chore' getting into this, and it reminded 'moi' of some 'pomegranate' innards made of 'grapefruit'. shake
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Dennis Ku
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So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.
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Gary Heidenreich
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futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.


shake

So, brown stuff on your arm from outside, sure I'll lick it off. shake

It's hard to tell people this story, as I would have to go "hey, there is this dood who blablabla the above story".

People would think I was talking about myself. Your secret is safe with me.

LOL
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Kelsey Rinella
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futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.


The best part about this story is that it comes from a kid who licked that poop in order to avoid a 400-meter run while on the track and field team.
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Wendell
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A large pepperoni pizza. Only one. An entire pie, I mean - I can't eat only one slice.
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AMERIGAMER!
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EgorjLileli wrote:
Chocolate
Peanut butter
Cookies
Pretzels
Chocolate milk

I'm speechless (which is why I'm typing.)
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Tim Denney
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I can eat just one pistachio nut and then walk away. I do not care for pistachios.

Along with:
Olives
Mushrooms
And anything that includes coconut.
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Andy Andersen
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futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.


I'm not sure if I'm not worthy or I just peed my pants here.
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Mystery McMysteryface
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davestephens wrote:
EgorjLileli wrote:
Chocolate
Peanut butter
Cookies
Pretzels
Chocolate milk

I'm speechless (which is why I'm typing.)


But do you have some pretzels? How about chocolate-covered pretzels?
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Rudy
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Orangemoose wrote:
But I cannot eat just one pistachio nut.

Shoot, I can't stop at just one bag.
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James Arias
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Ate just one?

A piece o' tripe.

Blech.
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午餐先生
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futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.



I have no words.
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David Hoffman
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mister lunch wrote:
futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.



I have no words.


It's like the scene from (I believe) Old School, where two women are talking. One's kid comes running up with something brown on his face.

"Is that chocolate?" the mom says. "Is that poop?"

Then she tastes it.

"Chocolate," she says.

"But it might've been poop," her friend says, a shocked look on her face.

The mom shrugs and sends her kid back to play.
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Matt Brown
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No bake chocolate cookies. If I or somebody makes me a batch, that batch is mine.
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Lee Fisher
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ohbalto wrote:
mister lunch wrote:
futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.



I have no words.


It's like the scene from (I believe) Old School, where two women are talking. One's kid comes running up with something brown on his face.

"Is that chocolate?" the mom says. "Is that poop?"

Then she tastes it.

"Chocolate," she says.

"But it might've been poop," her friend says, a shocked look on her face.

The mom shrugs and sends her kid back to play.


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Dennis Ku
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Listen, I didn't know what it was, ok? IT COULD HAVE BEEN CHOCOLATE. Also, I have had quite a few concussions, so I am going to blame the odd behaviour on neurological damage. I'm probably one shot to the head away from being Eric Lindros (minus the hockey skills and millions of dollars).

Oh, and you know what? It really wasn't THAT bad.
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Tim Denney
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I have had the opportunity to visit a number of countries in the world. I have eaten some strange things. I am sure it is no worse than some things that I have had throughout my travels.
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Kyle
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futhee wrote:
Listen, I didn't know what it was, ok? IT COULD HAVE BEEN CHOCOLATE. Also, I have had quite a few concussions, so I am going to blame the odd behaviour on neurological damage. I'm probably one shot to the head away from being Eric Lindros (minus the hockey skills and millions of dollars).

Oh, and you know what? It really wasn't THAT bad.


I won't judge as I'm curious enough to try kopi luwak (love me some coffee, but haven't had the chance yet)
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Dennis Ku
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Once in a while, growing up, I'd come home in the winter to find my dad freezing his ass off in the snow in the backyard by himself. He'd be sitting there in thick winter gear eating his beloved durian.

For those who haven't had the chance to try durian (especially fresh durian, as the frozen variety is a lot less pungent), the odor is unbelievably strong. Durian aficionados, however, will tell you that the flesh of the durian is delicious beyond compare. Many people say it smells like feet and tastes mildly like onions.

I have brought a fresh durian to my classrooms a few times over the years to give my students a new experience. About 6 years ago, I cut a fresh one open and gave each kid a taste. A few loved it. Unfortunately, a parent outside the school (and I'm on the second floor no less) reported the smell of a gas leak to the office. I have not brought one in to a school since.
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Dennis Ku
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rinelk wrote:
futhee wrote:
So, when I was about 8, I was practicing the long jump on our school track and field team. I was half-decent at the time, still years away from my current sloth-like state. One afternoon, I did a mighty jump, landed in the pit, and walked away, only to find a brown smear across my right arm. Looking towards the school, I contemplated going all that way (probably a good 400 metres) to wash it off. Alternatively, I could lick it off.

Naturally, I chose the later. It was horrific. I gagged and almost retched. However, there was still some on my arm, so I did it a second time and cleaned it off.

Years later, while at a friend's house, I came out of the bathroom laughing. "You have a sandbox in your bathroom!" I chuckled.

"It's for the cat. It's where the cat does his business. What, have you never had a cat before?"

And with that, I realized that I might very well have ingested some kind of cat or raccoon feces. Not once, but I gave it two tries that day.

So in short, no, if I couldn't even stop at one lick of poo, then there's nothing I won't try twice.


The best part about this story is that it comes from a kid who licked that poop in order to avoid a 400-meter run while on the track and field team.


I didn't want to miss my next jump!
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Andy Andersen
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Read at your own peril. gulp

Spoiler (click to reveal)
My Dad's family (7 brothers) loved Krub (sp?). It was a combination of beef blood, flour and spices. After it was put together it was boiled and then cooked in a skillet. It was as bad as it sounds.

One of my cousins had to go to a meat packing plant and hold a jar under the cattle's head after it's neck was slit to catch the blood - and then had to keep stirring it on the way home to prevent it from clotting. He had to bribe a foreman at the plant to let him in because it was illegal to do this.

I had one bite and that was it. My younger brother somehow developed a taste for it.
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Dennis Ku
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Orangemoose wrote:
Read at your own peril. gulp

Spoiler (click to reveal)
My Dad's family (7 brothers) loved Krub (sp?). It was a combination of beef blood, flour and spices. After it was put together it was boiled and then cooked in a skillet. It was as bad as it sounds.

One of my cousins had to go to a meat packing plant and hold a jar under the cattle's head after it's neck was slit to catch the blood - and then had to keep stirring it on the way home to prevent it from clotting. He had to bribe a foreman at the plant to let him in because it was illegal to do this.

I had one bite and that was it. My younger brother somehow developed a taste for it.


Ok, THAT IS FAR WORSE THAN MY EXPERIENCE. Am I right?
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午餐先生
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futhee wrote:
Orangemoose wrote:
Read at your own peril. gulp

Spoiler (click to reveal)
My Dad's family (7 brothers) loved Krub (sp?). It was a combination of beef blood, flour and spices. After it was put together it was boiled and then cooked in a skillet. It was as bad as it sounds.

One of my cousins had to go to a meat packing plant and hold a jar under the cattle's head after it's neck was slit to catch the blood - and then had to keep stirring it on the way home to prevent it from clotting. He had to bribe a foreman at the plant to let him in because it was illegal to do this.

I had one bite and that was it. My younger brother somehow developed a taste for it.


Ok, THAT IS FAR WORSE THAN MY EXPERIENCE. Am I right?


My wife loves the Taiwanese street snack, pig blood cake: congealed pig blood steamed in rice, coated with ground peanuts, hot sauce, and cilantro and served on a stick. I have developed a love for it, too.

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