I ate 12 over the span of the day mixed with bananas, grits and other starchy foods and I have to say: I feel fine. I'm drinking my second cup of Island Coconut coffee, had a bagel with cream cheese and am about to go for my run. Not even a rumble.
I must say, I probably could have eaten more...a LOT more, but I kind of let y'all psyche me out a bit with all the Z0MFGITSANEPICASSPLOSION talk. After Nigel started talking about going back to the store, I was like: "well, I'm at the end of my sack too. I either have to make an orange-run myself, or admit that it's over." Fact is: I have a picnic with the muffins in New Orleans on Sunday and the last thing I need is to have run off to feed recycled citrus compost to the Oaks in Audubon Park six times in a hour...so I puss'd out.
I'm totally down for pushing this next year because I wanna know: if a dozen oranges did absolutely nothing to my ass, how the fuck many will it take?