The god of tuna, are you listening?

Is it possible for the spirit of a dead tuna to haunt you?

I have no other explanation for what is happening to me.

It’s not like my life is all that complicated:

  • Write
  • Work
  • Clean the litter box
  • Remove dog pee and piles of poop from the floor
  • Then have breakfast, lunch, or dinner

Last night, I made enough tuna casserole to create 16 lunches, which are packaged like this…

1.2 cup rubbermaid containers, I wish my stomach were this strong.

…and because I’m the world’s laziest cook, I had the remains for dinner.

The “recipe” is simple:

  • 2 boxes Barilla spiral noodles, overcooked.
  • 1 can mushroom soup
  • 6 cans tuna, drained
  • Approximately ¼ box of Velveeta cheese (aka what was left over after the mold was cut off)
  • Add 2-something  6 oz bags of extra sharp cheddar to mix (Possibly more.  I’m a cheese-a-holic and dumped all the half-used bags of cheese into the mix.  There may be some 4 cheese Mexican in there somewhere, possibly pepper jack…definitely Quesadilla…).
  • 1  6-oz bag of sharp cheddar cheese to put on top of each lunch before putting the lid on it.
  • At least 2 cups milk
  • 2 sticks butter
  • Salt, pepper, and minced garlic to suit your taste

I have to warn you that I use the term “recipe” loosely.  There may be more butter and cheese in it than stated.  However, I can guarantee that it contains no Vodka.

Last night’s tuna was certainly fowl.

Said tuna began to haunt me mere minutes after ingesting it.   I was finally able to sleep – around 11:00pm after taking 2 different knock-out pills.

I awoke at Poo am with the scent of doggie “gifts” accosting my nostrils and rancid tuna brewing inside my mouth.

If there is a god of tuna, I beg forgiveness, for I have finned.  Please take from me the stench that not even 2 tablespoons of all natural, chunky peanut butter can remove.

I’ll let you know when the taste of peanut butter tuna on Dave’s Good Seed bread stops haunting me.