Poll results! YEAHHHH!

Yes, you read right- it's time for the POLL RESULTS. *confetti explodes out of ceiling*

I made this poll when I was planning the Saga, so naturally, it had to be about spicy food. (It was also right after that time I went to that really good Japanese restaurant and accidentally forgot to scrape the wasabi off the chopsticks BEFORE I used them again... ow.)

Anyway!

QUESTION: So how's your spicy-food tolerance level?

40% of you guys (two people) said that you were medium-ish when it came to dealing with Teh Spicy (that was not a typo).

20% of pollers (one person) said that they weren't so good with spicy food, and could only take mild stuff.

Another 20% (one more person) said that they were tough enough to down the REALLY spicy food.

Aaaand one superhuman said that they were the Grand Master of Spicy Food. (Whoever that was, congratulations. Don't blame me when your tongue burns off, okay?)

No one said that they never ever (EVER!) eat spicy food, and no one said that they were complete wusses who writhed on the ground in pain upon coming in contact with something remotely spicy. It's a good thing, too, because I would've been kind of worried.

Now excuse me while I go eat. I am STARVING.

OMGWHAAAAT.

AGH I'VE BEEN SO BAD ABOUT POSTING NOW THAT SCHOOL IS OUT MY BRAIN SHUT DOWN I DON'T KNOW WHAT DAY OF THE WEEK IT IS OHMYGAAAASH

Hello, faithful blog readers!

As you can see, I've been AWFUL at posting here now that school's out. (Finished on June 3, before everyone else! HAAAA!) I don't even know what day of the week it is! Wait, actually, I do. It's Wednesday (I think... yeah, it is). I only know this because I'm keeping track of THIS week because everyone else is getting out of school tomorrow/Friday and I need to know the appropriate time to brag about my summer-ness when to congratulate them on getting out of school!

Yeah. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. I simply OOZE kindness. Yeah.

I should probably do more in the Saga, shouldn't I? (I probably should.) But the thing is... I don't want to. (Noooooo!) I mean, I know I said I was going to, and I really don't want to break a promise, but... I'm just not really into it.

Oh, screw this. I'll just tell a short story about the "Exploding Soda" part of the Saga title, and then shriek about a new Rick Riordan book (EEEEEEEEEEEEE).

The Saga of Freakish Salsa and Exploding Soda, Part III: In which the soda actually explodes.

Earlier in the night, my friend had mentioned that he had some soda, which I then wanted (I can only go so long with being slightly dehydrated, you know. For any guys out there, girls actually do need to do things like drink and eat and sleep).

He said that the soda was in the fridge in the garage. I said that obviously I'd never been there before and had no flipping idea where the garage was, let alone the fridge in the garage. Therefore, the soda hunt commenced.

Two seconds later, I found out that the garage was located in a very convenient place that I really could have found on my own, but I didn't know where it was in the first place, and- never mind. WE WERE STANDING IN THE GARAGE, OKAY? OKAY.

"Ooh, root beer," I said, taking a can down from the top shelf. "Gosh, I haven't had a root beer in so lo- WHOAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

That last part was because I'd cracked the top and foam and gone flying out all over my hands.

And then it was because I'd taken a step back... not realizing that there was a step behind me, which caused me to balance on one foot, trying to NOT fall backward onto the various pieces of junk in the garage, one arm windmilling like a cartoon, the other trying not to spill any more of the exploding soda...

...all while my friend stood there, staring at me in complete awe of the fact that any one human could be so freaking uncoordinated.

Oops.

After several seconds, I regained my balance (without dropping the soda!) and stood there, trying not to panic at my near-death experience.

"Whoa," my friend said. "Uh... you okay?"
"Uh, yeah. Heh heh... heh..."
"Wow. Don't die, okay?"

My thought process: Holy crap he is touching my shoulder I think my face is red is it red? it totally is oh my goodness I am an IDIOT and I almost died and my hand is sticky from soda and SQUEE--

"Okay."


*END*



Next up, Part IV, which contains a possessed Christmas hat and extreme boredom. (No, seriously.)