Opposable Thumbs

So, today I discovered another no-no in the way of personal combinations that lead to possibly dangerous results. I was on the way out to my Sisters house to help her out with some work she's doing (staining her concrete floors -- more about that later), when I decided to stop and get a bowl of pho at one of my favorite vietnamese restaurants. For those of you not so culturaly aware, pho is a vietnamese soup made made with a very flavorful beaf broth to which is added rice noodles and various beef bits (depends on where your tastes lie -- I stick to the normal stuff usually, but could have some tripe thrown in there if I asked nicely). All this is served with a plate of various herbs (usually some fresh basil and occasionally cilanro, bean sprouts and thinly sliced jalapenos). I usually throw in all of the above and top it off with a little bit of rooster sauce (sriracha, I believe, is the actual name of it) to spice it up even more. Needless to say, this is a potent mix. It's been known to have had a significant hand in clearing away more than a few sinus infections (just hold your face over a bowl of this stuff for a few seconds and see how much better you're breathing shortly thereafter). It's also been known to set my eyes watering on a few occasions from a misguided pepper seed getting into just the wrong spot (be it somewhere in my mouth, throat, nose or, ack, even eyes). So, there I was eating this lovely concoction while trying to read one of my latest literary acquisitions -- the posthumous collection of Douglas Adams' miscellaneous writings, Salmon of a Doubt. I don't know how many of you have ever read any of Douglas Adams works before (or, if you were really damn lucky like me, gotten to hear speak in person), but let's just say that the reader is prone to occasional random burst of laughter. Indeed, when I first discovered the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy at the ripe old age of 13, my Dad at one point insisted on knowing what the hell I had discovered when I started lapsing into continous convulsions of giggling. I'm sure by now, most of you, being the astute readers that you are (what, people actually read this site? Yes, my Dad even told me that he discovered it recently!), have put two and two together and figured out what danger awaited me with this fearsome combination. Needless to say, I quickly found that I had to put the book down for fear of personal injury or (even worse) causing a disturbance so gross as to be asked never to return.