While Tara Morgan doesn’t have many food restrictions, there is one dairy product she is bravely willing to shit her pants for – baked brie.
In spite of her lactose intolerance, Morgan throws caution to the wind whenever baked brie makes an appearance – whether it’s at her monthly book club, an outdoor movie screening, or at the free sample counter at Trader Joe’s. Morgan has tried to hold out in the past when presented with baked brie, but in the end her pants always fall victim to the aftermath.
“I love that sweet, warm, flaky, cheesy goodness so much that it’s worth all the public shittings in the world,” says Morgan, while shitting her pants standing up outside King Kullen.
Morgan deals with the baked brie fallout by taking advantage of Victoria’s Secret’s 5 for $25 deal on cotton panties. Sadly, she has lost 12 pairs of Madewell jeans to the downward spiral. “I know it seems irrational, but have you tasted baked brie? Fresh out of the oven with a fig jam sandwiched between a fluffy puff pastry crust? It just oozes all over your mouth, and sadly, out of my butt.”
“But I have to say, it’s worth it.”
Her doctors all tell her the same thing: “Stop eating it. Please. Why would you do this to yourself?”
Morgan admits that baked brie isn’t the only food she is willing to shit her pants for: mozzarella sticks, milkshakes and pizza also top the list. “Honestly, those are on rare occasions,” says Morgan. “But if there is any of that motherfucking baked brie around, I will eat the goddamn shit out of it and will require a change of clothes.”
Morgan’s friends and family have asked her to start taking lactose pills to balance out it out, but the Lactaid pills all have an aftertaste that Morgan says ruins the experience of eating baked brie. “Honestly, the danger of losing control of my bowels is a part of why I love it,” she says. “That thrill is worth all the shit in the world.”
“It’s not just the shit on her pants,” recalls Morgan’s roommate Heidi. “We’ve had to replace three couches.”
Morgan hopes that a cure will be found in the future. For now, she will continue number-two-blasting her way through her wardrobe.