When bread destroys you and naked oat abandons you
How do you feel about bread? As in ‘sandwiches’?
Now you have to ask me.
Alright I’ll answer: I have been a total sandwich addict half of my life. Three meters of thick butter I used to spread on my bread. And I mean REALLY thick butter. And then chocolate sprinkles on top. But not that many; just enough that the jimmies could get buttered in smoothly.
6 white sandwiches with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles in the morning, 6 white sandwiches with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles at lunch, 6 white sandwiches with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles in the evening after dinner.
Yep that was me.
The first quarter of my life.
I still dream about those times and then I eat more than twenty white sandwiches with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles.
Then I wake up. In total shock because it was just a dream.
Bread health issues
Imagine getting severe health problems when you eat bread not to mention with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles. Like really serious health issues that goes beyond hiccups, red eyes or inexplainable alien like rashes or breathe-trouble-attacks (which are not funny at all) and/or heart rates going to 200 a minute (not funny either).
Yep. That’s me.
Nowadays I land in total shock when I would eat sandwiches with thick butter and chocolate sprinkles.
Rye bread, spelt bread; I can NOT eat it.
Millet bread could be an option, but that’s for parakeets.
Naked oat bread
But then there is: NAKED oat bread which is the ultimate solution for people who get (physical) sick of bread.
You hardly can find it, let alone that there is a (naked or not naked) lunatic producing special naked oat bread for you.
For years and years I eat this weird looking, falling apart, crumbling and funny tasting bread now and it gives my body the proper nutrition and energy I need on a day.
Without it; I would be a freaking mess.
It’s not as tasty as chocolate sprinkled bread; but at least I live.
Everywhere I go: the naked piece of
shit bread goes with me. My days are about surviving and feeling the best I can through oat meals, quinoa and naked bread. And no: I don’t eat it naked, but fully clothed. That’s me as well.
Then came: 2020: Corona times.
Nobody knew what was about to happen in the world at that moment in time, which resulted in psychotic hoarding of toilet paper nationwide and surroundings. People slapping each other to get the last roles of shit-paper and sometimes people of all types intellengences went home with 3100 packages of recycled paper to wipe off their butts for the next 8 million years.
The same for water bottles and of course bread seemed to be a well basic need stock up product as well.
Of course the whole bread venture was not of my business because I don’t eat normal bread. Abnormal people eat abnormal bread like me. So lucky me: I had my oat bread exclusively made for us abnormal people.
So the unexpected happened: suddenly a worldwide naked oat lack developed instantly. Whuuttttt?!! Yes that. Everywhere inexplainable oat harvest had failed that year. What could have happened? Did Spongebob prank us by packing it all for himself? Did aliens steal all the straws? Or did they just poo on it? Nehhh not possible.
Ok now what. The only thing to do is eat the last slices of my precious oat bread, smell it real good, look at it for the last time and eat it in slow motion so you can always remember what it tasted like and how it saved your life until then.
So I took a good seat, in the living room that is where I eat on it’s best my breakfast, and grab the bread really careful so it doesn’t fall. Well I don’t actually know what I thought at this particular occasion, but I seem to have occurred some kind of weird unexpected spasm over fingers, hands and arms.
Which made me conclude (afterwards): the best thing to do is making a super spastic movement which throws your left over bread right through the air shattering in all directions making a U-turn before landing on my floor. I was trying to grab with open mouth little pieces out if the air but in vain.
And when I tell you that in my household you can NOT eat from the floor; you know right away that the left over bread (now in a million pieces on the carpet: because this oat bread acts different than other bread) is now totally gross to eat and I’m now instantly oat-bread-orphan.
The oat withdrawal lasted for a whole and long year and did I have to screw up my body with the grains not good for my guts which resulted in being less fit as when I strictly subject myself to my every so boring and anti allergen diet. It totally was like being in a rehab; I don’t actually know how that would feel, but I absolutely could imagine it.
Sniffing everywhere in the house to search for every piece of oat bread crumb left. And that was less funny than it actually sounds. Nobody understands what you’re going through when you are oat-less. Well not really oat-less because I still had my oatmeal‘s as in porridge. So in fact I still could sniff some oat every day.
My oat-bread-rehabilitation was such a powerful event; that by the time (year later) I first tasted the bread again: I had to get used to the how-could-I-even-eat-that-ever-before again. Maybe in another blog I will show you the unsightly stiffed puke stuff and maybe how to make it yourself in case a oat bread doom scenario might pops up again in some future; which I don’t hope.