What you're seeing in terms of the picture up there, is what happened afterwards, but more on that later.
The Frenchman and Pony Boy whipped up some serious grub on Tuesday night. I'm talking proper junk food. For a man who's trying to run a little and get more exercise, it probably wasn't wise to gorge myself on a pile of taco fries and burgers, but it would have been rude not to. I looked like a pastier version of Slimer from Ghostbusters, stuffing my face. Nice.
At half ten at night, I ate for the last time on Tuesday. I know, that's late, don't judge me. You're not the boss of me you know. I went to bed happy. I woke up relatively happy too. I went to work, and on my break I walked past the canteen, just to test myself... The smells.... Oh god the smells. Fry up, coffee, bacon, eggs, hash browns... and none of it for me. My stomach made a noise, that spelled phonetically looks like this: Grrrrrreuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrreeuuuuggghhhhyyyyyeaaarrrrggggghh.
It made this noise on the half hour for the remainder of the day. I ran away for lunch hour, afraid to be seen near anything resembling food. In the second half of the day, things started looking like food. Water cooler - not unlike a fully roasted side of beef. Paper with doodles on it - eerily similar to a plate of spaghetti. It was a Simpson's moment. Everyone started looking like grub.
I turned on the United match when I got home. Twenty two chicken drumsticks running around the pitch. In HD. I nearly licked the screen.
Of course, given that I've a penchant for being impulsive, I was becoming restless with just half an hour to go. And I asked Pony Boy to order pizza. For the second night in a row it was junk food at half ten at night. And how. You should have seen me go... Taz has nothing on me when I'm in a feeding frenzy.
Of course, given that I've a penchant for being impulsive, I was becoming restless with just half an hour to go. And I asked Pony Boy to order pizza. For the second night in a row it was junk food at half ten at night. And how. You should have seen me go... Taz has nothing on me when I'm in a feeding frenzy.
There's no doubt that it's a strange one. I'm so used to nibbling when hungry that not doing it seems ridiculous. Deliberately avoiding food make a mockery of one of my own personal commandments. Nonetheless... this time round, the fasting could be felt. I'll never have a row with my stomach again...
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