Los Simpsons sing such truth.*
On a recent sojourn down to Cancun, Mexico, I decided to be a little adventurous. Some may say foolish, but I prefer adventurous. For days, I had spent my time at the resort happily eating meats, cheeses and fruits. I was in bliss, and for my final meal, I sat down to order something fancy. In doing so, I committed a great sin against my fellow unvegans. It is a moment I scarcely remember, and I almost feel as if some sort of vegetable demon took possession of my body and held on just long enough to force me to spout the words required to ask for a salad to accompany my utterly meaty main course.
No sooner than an hour after my meal concluded, I found myself pacing around my hotel room, pondering the volatile chemical reactions occurring deep within the confines of my belly. I headed to the bathroom, to find that Montezuma had decided to exact his revenge upon me through an intense case of the runs. When I had completed my initial bowel cleansing, I went back into my room to consider whether the recent movement was due to the salad. As if to answer, a wave of nausea swept over me and carried me into the bathroom for a vomit full of salad. As the lettuce left me, I also felt as if I was exorcising myself of the vegetable demon. I had made a most terrible mistake and was paying for it tenfold. It is a mistake I never plan to make again.
*Thanks to my buddy and one-time euchre partner over at the protean pantry for reintroducing me to such a marvelous clip. I took the liberty of further researching and came upon a most glorious Spanish rendition of the clip.