Trisimulstuff
I appreciate how some African tribes have words for very complicated things. For instance, one word could be used to describe the feeling you have when you wake up in the middle of the night and think that someone has urinated in your ear. Or something.
I think there should definitely be a word for what my girlfriend and I witnessed today in Cracker Barrel.
The party that was two places before us in line consisted of two very very large women, and an adorable little girl (enjoy it while it lasts, honey). It was fairly obvious that it was mother, daughter, and grandmother. First off, it honestly took them 5 minutes to pick a table and to waddle over to it. But it’s what happened next that is so astonishing. Their drink order hadn’t even been taken, when the mother reached into her purse… I can’t even type this without laughing… she reached into her purse and pulled out a can of Reddi-wip®. Whipped cream in an areosol can. She took the can, shook it up, and proceeded to put a large dollop of whipped cream in her palm and eat it. She then passed the can over to her mother, who did the same. The Reddi-wip® was passed around the table a few more times, like some sort of saturated fat peace pipe. At one point, some of the whipped cream got on the table. It didn’t go to waste.
I remarked that there should be a word for three generations of women simultaneously stuffing themselves to death.
I think it’s “Trisimulstuff.”
