Postprandial somnolence is the scientific term for a food coma. How do I know this? Because I looked it up on my phone on Thanksgiving Day while I was slowly getting under the covers at my parents house that afternoon, swearing to myself that I was just "resting my eyes."
The older you get, the more susceptible you get to food comas. Why, just this past weekend a simple turkey sandwich knocked me out around 1 p.m. on Sunday afternoon, only for me to awaken at 5 p.m. feeling like I was hit by a truck in my sleep, with a plate full of crumbs next to me.
The worst food comas are the ones you endure while awake. Sometimes nature drags you through a dark realm of sweating, blurred vision and euphoria even when you haven't lucked out with a nap and rest.
Eating excess amounts of certain foods is shameful for me. I feel low when I walk out of a restaurant feeling like Mr. Creosote and a block down I see a guy on the street who hasn't eaten a full meal in a week. But somehow that doesn't stop me from drinking a gallon of milk and a family-size bag of Cooler Ranch Doritos during a marathon of Lock Up on MSNBC.
10. Mexican Pastries
My mom is Hispanic, so these are always a big offender. Your teeth hurt from all the sugar, and you unbutton all the buttons on your shirt as you start calling everyone "mija" or "mijo."
Meat sweats, bro. When you can feel that cut of beef trying to come back up through that lake of wine you drowned it in.
8. Fried Fish
Swear to God, a plate of fried fish cuts up my mouth like I was chewing spearmint glass. You get so full that tartar sauce might as well be whipped cream.
You realize crawfish season is right around the corner, right? Eating pounds of crawfish is like pounding liquid smoke and eating egg shells. A lot of work for little reward. All you want is fruit or water. You rub your eyes only to blind yourself, forcing you to flee to a dark room to cry and take off your pants, in a non-sexy way.
Think a food coma, but weirder and scarier and you smoke a lot of cigarettes and cry. If you eat too much pie, you don't end up making out with someone in a public photo-booth.
Why? Turkey isn't even that good unless it's fried, or it's bacon. How does it keep pummeling me? Tryptophan my ass, it's government chemicals injected to keep you slow. Just ask Alex Jones.
I don't care what kind of pie it is, there is no pleasure in a pie coma. Even a cigar and a few drinks is painful afterward. You get so full you can see through time. Pie sweats are possible too.
It's like a lake in your stomach, filled with chicken and noodles and other garbage. Throwing up soup is even better.
2. Breakfast Foods
I'm a big fan of the Luby's breakfast buffet by my house. It's like a Vegas-style buffet, except there are no showgirls and no smoking. I get up, with all hopes of having a full breakfast and then taking on the day. Shopping! Gym! Washing the car! Only to end back up at home, with maple syrup and unlimited bacon scrapings in my beard, lamenting that I didn't keep that wheelchair I had after my hernia operation.
The steak sweats mixed with that just-woke-mealy-mouthed feeling. It turns your sweat into au jus for two days, and God forbid you wear a white shirt. It looks like you spilled coffee under your arms.
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