FAYZANATION

You can speculate all you want on the reasoning behind excessive, competitive chile pepper eating. I mean, you’d never find me engaging in such behavior, and I love hot peppers. All of ‘em, in everything, from eggs to rice to sandwiches to bagels. Make it spicy, baby, and make it ache! To the point where it burns my lips, makes my nose run, and forces unrecognizability upon my poor, unsuspecting tongue. However, all bets are off once those itty bitty vegetables of fire take a toll on my tummy, and I surrender before it hits the point where my derreire is glued to the toilet seat. Um, ahem.

But for some of us, namely the boy version of the species? Well, they just don’t know when to quit.

As a result, the above video features a Chile Pepper Eating Contest. Oh, thank goodness, a contest. To see who can ruin their bellies the fastest. I mean, what?

The premise? Ramit‘s birthday, and hence, the Ram-It Olympics (get it?). Stocked with equal parts competitive spirit, raging testosterone, and varying levels of intoxication, from a little buzzed to full-on shrieking inebriation, the Ram-It Olympics could be nothing but a side-splitting success. The attending menfolk in particular, when presented with the slightest opportunity to flex their proverbial muscles, have a machismo that I will never seem to understand; one that they seek to capitalize upon almost daily. Good thing we women were blessed with bigger, sharper brains and more common sense in order to exploit their idiocy. Um, did I say idiocy? I meant gallantry. Yes, that’s what I meant.

Featured in the video above, we have a case in point study of said valiant deeds. Ask a woman why you’d want to chow on the equivalent of gastrointestinal knives at the highest speed possible, and you’d get the only answer that makes any sense: “I wouldn’t.” But the men, oh, those men heave-ho with everything they’ve got, and such a response remains a mystery to me.

But no bother. It made for some interesting spectator activities, at the very least.