So I miss breakfast d/t some pressing work. A couple hours later, I wander down to the mess, starving. The fruit is looking poorly and the yogurt is expired. Cold cuts are, well cold and uninspired in the early morning. Ah ha! I see a large Tupperware-type container with some nondescript brown blobs inside. Crack the lid and there before me are a dozen, perfectly baked cinnamon bun-looking thingies. Completely forgetting where in the fucking world I'm working, I grab one and manage to cram most of it into my mouth. After a few chews and a swallow or two I realize there's some sort of odd backup between my lips and my stomach. Subconsciously, I just shut down and then the taste hits me and I'm retching with a huge mouthful of roll being the only thing saving me from spewing the rest of the roll and six cups of coffee all over the mess. I made it to the bin and emptied myself of the offending roll. I'm in New Zealand. It was a vegemite roll. Like it or not, everyday out here is adventure.