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24 April 2005

♥ The Great Chili Incident

If you happen to be a vegetarian, few things are less appealing than the idea of Wendy’s chili. Seriously, even before I stopped eating flesh (er, “meat”), I thought it was totally disgusting. But then I heard about that lady that said she found a finger in her Wendy’s chili. Like, gross. Seriously. Ew. But anyway, like I heard about that and then ran around telling everyone “Haha, this is one of those times that I’m really glad I’m a veggiehead” for a couple of days and then a few people told me to shove it and most people forgot about it and I figured that would be the end of it. But then the other day in English, we were reading the paper like always (Zamboni – don’t ask) and I see this article and the headline is “Woman who says she found finger in chili won’t sue.” And I was like, this I gotta see. So I kind of skim the article, and I guess she said that the whole ordeal was just too stressful for her. But anyway, I guess it’s good to be literate sometimes, because just for kicks I read through the whole thing and here is quite possibly the most entertaining thing I have ever read:

“Police in San Jose, Calif., said they were investigating a possible connection to Sandy Allman, the owner of several exotic animals who lost her digit in a leopard attack Feb. 23.”

Oh, and get this. The chick they’re talking about, this Allman character, is from Pahrump, Nevada. My uncle works near there sometimes. But seriously. What a kickass name. And while we’re discussing the hilarity of the possibilities of the origin of the wayward finger, check this out:

“Tepoorten [hahahahahaha] said authorities have gotten information from around the country about lost digits – including one woman who claimed she lost a finger while breaking up a dog fight ‘and apparently the hospital lost her finger.’”

Wouldn’t it suck if your hospital lost your finger?

Anyway, the New York Times emails me stuff occasionally. Like, I’m on their mailing list, but they don’t send me stuff that often. I guess it’s just whenever they feel like it’s something I need to know. I guess that’s how our relationship is; we’re not big on communication, the Times and I. But anyway, they sent me this thing the other day and the headline was “Woman allegedly traumatized by finger in chili is arrested.”

So I was like, “YES!” Because I had been under the impression that no way could this whole story get any better. But obviously I was wrong, because apparently this Anna Ayala character, the finger-finder, is all about making up this ridiculousness and then suing. She sued General Motors and also this Mexican restaurant because her kid got food poisoning or something. I mean, that’s why she sued the restaurant. She would have to be pretty creative to have a reason to sue GM that had to do with food poisoning. But the point is, the finger thing wasn’t really the Wendy’s people’s fault. I’d be delighted to know where she got the finger, though, because word on the street (shut up, in the Times) is that she just stuck a finger in her chili and proceeded to freak.

I suppose there are several important lessons to be learned here:

1) Don’t eat Wendy’s chili.

2) If you insist on breaking rule #1, run a spork or something through said chili before eating it.

3) Be careful when training snow leopards.

4) Seriously, if you’re a novice con artist, don’t go for big guys like GM or Wendy’s. Start small until you’re experienced enough to avoid finger-related scams.

I guess I just felt like something so wonderful could not go unshared. I mean, come on: a finger in some gross chili, a freak snow leopard accident resulting in the loss of a digit (complete with well-manicured nail), and a badly executed insurance scam? YES! It’s the stuff crappy box office duds are made of! You can’t think up stuff this beautiful!

UPDATE: It seems there's more to the story. Check out this link to Netscape News if you're interested.

♥ the best is yet to be.
4/24/2005

♥ yours truly. ;

    "And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep." --Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

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