Eating a raw ear of corn didn't seem to be the best idea, but Chris had an air of certainty as he went about it. Later that evening, he became spectacularly ill, presumably because of some nasties hiding in the crevices of the kernels. He's been sick sick sick in several ways since touching down. The centerpiece is a staggering, splitting
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And sorry you're sick. Which chris is this anyway?
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You know, the raw corn tasted great, but I'm suspicious of grocery store corn that's trucked who knows how far being eaten raw - before the chance for any of the nasties picked up along the way to be cooked off. The pesticides, at least. Grilled corn is certainly where it's at.
It's Chris, my honey. Not Bertrand, but Lissman, the alpha and the omega of my love life.
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(that was supposed to be funny)
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