So I was talking to a good friend of mine today and he informed me he is in the current throes of passing a kidney stone. Whenever I hear those two words next to each other, kidney and stone, I get chills. The worst kind, too: Sweaty chills. Those moments when you get the chills and the sweats at the same time, and your body can’t decide which of the two is winning, so it lets you shiver while you are dripping sweat. Yes. Those chills.The reason I get those chills when I hear those words paired up is because about a year and a half ago, I had a run in with a rather cruel kidney stone of my own, a sort of many-pointed star of David, trying to find its way out of my urethra Franklin at the worst possible time. While I was buying a bag of weed. I wish I was kidding, but much like the rest of my insane tales, this one is true, and I held on to the stone as proof. Come on, I bonded with that thing. You don’t just throw away something that you bonded over almost dying with. No, you keep that shit in a jar and look at it every time you start taking life for granted. Don’t worry, I include pics, so you can just look at my kidney stone now when you are taking life for granted and don’t have to actually pass one. I took care of that part. Man, enough with the Pariah complex, huh? Anyway, on to the story of the Grape Nut that came out of my dick.