Tonight’s blog entry comes to us by way of our very special friend Keith Paugh. What follows is his own unvarnished account of the night.
Whether I like it or not, I always get the pre-party jitters before such measurements and feats of capacity. I brought my milk jug in a mix of hope and fear that the chile would be a scorcher. You want the stakes to be high… You want to preform equal to the task… And you want it all to make for some good internet computervision.
Now that I have my hat, I can say that while super “burny,” at no point did I want to throw up, which is sort of a bummer. I would have thrown up for you, viewer. I would have thrown up where both cameras A & B could see clearly, and I would have made a show of it. I might have washed my mouth out with milk and then thrown that up, too, just to have a button to cut out on.
Instead I took that pepper out like Adam Richman, and now I rep my home team free and clear.
Thank you, Cinco. You didn’t make me puke.
Tonight’s menu: the number 58 – bacon egg sandwich.