Saturday night I wanted to finish off the left over tacos I had in the fridge, so I warmed up the meat. I had a funny feeling in my gut that maybe I was pushing the safe time table in which it was safe to eat said left overs. But I said, what the heck, and ate it anyway. I got a stomach of steel. About 10:00pm, I sensed things to be amiss. My new roommate wanted to play some Mario Kart, so we played for about forty five minutes or so and my stomach was starting to do some funny things. After that, it seemed like bed time was calling loud. I heeded the call and was looking forward to a long night's sleep. However, my gut was not happy with my choice for dinner and it was about to let me know just how much displeasure it had. It proceeded to do so just about every hour on the hour until 5:00am. Two words - violently ill. Fun times. This morning my new roommate was so kind as to go get me some saltines and gatorade and then some meds this afternoon. I'm grateful for him being such a good sport after only two days here. Lesson - When your gut tells you not to eat something and you ignore it, your gut just may make sure you get the message in the end.