Part of the ageing process appears to be the morphing of your body's general indifference to certain foods, into a complete display of disgust at your choice in meal.
As a younger lad I recall heading to Pizza Hut and eating an entire pizza, or at least most of it, then heading to the dessert bar for a tasty bowl of brown stuff with white goop on it. I had always assumed the brown stuff was a kind of pudding and the white stuff ice cream, but I can never be sure and as the dine-in Pizza Huts have all closed down now, it will remain one of life's little mysteries.
But I ate these things and there were no problems at all. I even ate at the dessert bar after seeing some child attempting to lick the nozzle where the white goop came out. I excused myself by selecting the brown goop nozzle instead. That's just how I rolled.
The point is, I was young and I could take it.
Chilli fish, curried anything, Indian question mark, all these dishes were fine, my hardened innards were up to the challenge. And not just with spiced goods either! Doughnuts were a favourite of my brother and myself. We would regularly pop up to the shops and prepare for our evening of movie watching with a pack of doughnuts, some bottles of creamy soda and a bowl of mixed lollies. We were a classy pair, but what was the problem?
Option 1 - "If we have two doughnuts each, we can save one each for mum and day."
Option 2 - "Or, we could have three each and hide the packet and they won't know we had any.
Option 2 always won.
But things have changed.
My brother no longer wants to eat chocolate as it "doesn't agree" with him. I can only have a couple of pieces of pizza before my stomach starts telling me to have the mylanta close by. I even bought a pack of doughnuts the other day and there's still 4 in the packet!
I have just now finished eating a packet of Kraft Easy Mac cheese for lunch.
Place in the microwave for 4 minutes, remove, then poke with a fork until the molten form before you starts to solidify and resemble a claggy gumboot.
The taste, if you can call it that, was unique.
A gelatinous squish through which an ooze of almost cheese coloured semi-liquid appeared presenting my taste buds with an unflavour of melted bin liner. It also appeared to have its own gravitational pull from which only an adequate seasoning seems to have been able to land beyond the event horizon.
Combine this with last week's Indian Curry Tuna of which John West should have genuinely reconsidered his non-rejection choice, and there is a definite message being passed on by my system.
Enough is enough.
Johnny Cash can't do the feeling justice, especially when the curried tuna was accompanied by a banana, mandarin and one of those half yoghurt things in the bottle rather than tub.
In the first Austin Powers film, Dr.Evil recalls his childhood as being pretty standard, specifically referencing luge lessons in Rangoon. Well, I may have experienced my own luge lessons in Rangoon, from the perspective of the track.
Spices, sugar and grease are no longer the realm through which I watch the evening movie or enjoy an episode of my favourite televisual treat. It was a good run. I'll remember the good times with fondness, but for now, it's water and an antacid.