Wiggles Has a Heart Attack. Wait, No, Just Bad Gas.

A cautionary tale:

Never eat a pile of cake frosting. On a spoon. Like I did.

What happened was, I ate a cupcake. A lovely, frosted cupcake.

Sassy dyes all the vanilla frosting she makes. Custom frosting, who can resist?

Sassy dyes all the vanilla frosting she makes. Custom frosting, who can resist?

See? A real beauty. Home made by Sassafrass herself.

And I loved it. So, so much, that I thought maybe I’d eat another. But, then, there were so few left and I didn’t want to be the PIG that ate too many cupcakes. Solution! Why not eat the itty-bit of leftover frosting? How could that hurt?

How? I’ll tell you how. Never mind that I’m already on twice daily prescription anti-heartburn meds.

Kaiser's finest generic capsules for Pepcid lovers. 2x/day, mind you.

Kaiser’s finest generic capsules for Pepcid lovers. 2x/day, mind you.

I was rolling around on my bed like a Human Pinata wondering whether or not to wake the Lord & Master and tell him to get me to the Emergency Room. I truly suspected I’d finally done it, finally burst the old ticker with my frosting, my cashews, my coffee candies, my KitKat fetish [Freeze them. You’ll be hooked].

To boost the meds, I popped two Phaysyme. Well, generic, I’m not gonna waste good money on name brand. Please, I’m not a reckless idiot. At least not about my drugs.

If I believed in those Imaginary Friends, I'd have been praying around now.

If I believed in those Imaginary Friends everyone visits on Sundays, I’d have been praying around now.

The heaven-sent simethicone broke up the log jam and I began a blessed round of much needed farts. With every spew my tummy deflated. It took a couple of hours, but I finally expelled enough gas to drift off to dreamland. Where absolutely no dancing cupcakes, frosted or not, cavorted.

Take heed, fellow food abusers. Cupcake frosting should only be ingested atop a cupcake. And to all, a good night.

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