The Great Fall

Here at Prawn Hats Towers, I like to start off every entry with, well, THE START, that is, the first thing of the day. This entry is certainly no exception, I will start the description of my day with what happened even before I opened my peepers... and that is- I had a headache. How often does this happen, that you wake up with a headache? Some profound chemical imbalance between my ears, no doubt. So, perhaps you've guessed by now, my culinary day started with a pair of puny purple pain pills.

They didn't help

Once I reached my place of employment, I cracked open my food. Oh boy!

First, I consumed some scrummy pineapple, freshly whacked to bits by IPM a mere hour previous. As soon as I reached a post-pineapple state, the inevitability of my sandwich weighed heavily on my mind. (As did my headache.) But back to the sandwich... With trembling fingers, I peeled open the hydrocarbon wonder of my sandwich bag, to expose... the bread... the peanut butter... and finally- the jam. In my helpless fury, the jam and peanut butter made a maelstrom of sticky sweetness, on my fingers, on the sandwich bag, pebbles of chunky peanut landing on my keyboard, wedged between the V and the B.

It was a pretty good breakfast.

By lunchtime, I still had my headache, and I was scrutanising my recent activities for some reasonable cause; surely I had committed some punishable offence! I swallowed two more pills.

Lunchtime!

I had leftover fried chicken... some thighs, some drumsticks. I have to tell ya, though, chicken skin doesn't generally sit well when I eat it. What part of my digestive treasure hunt is at fault? I surely don't know. And just as surely, I avoid chicken skin. Now, I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong- I didn't make myself sick. But, at the same time, I can't say I was full, either.

I made it all the way to 3:30PM before The Great Fall... yes, I bought a portion of onion rings. Thankfully, you don't get as many onion rings as you used to (plus they cost more). So, while I didn't make myself exactly sick, I did make a pig of myself. Sigh.

Naturally, after a greasy portion of 'o' rings, I had a wicked sweet-tooth.... I found some gelatinous sugar things... and ate them all. I then remembered the fudge Robert gave me to take home... I ate it. Felt... so... nice...

The evening meal was beef, in a beer sauce, and jacket potato. Again IPM outdid herself with what will sure become a repeating culinary classic of colassal, um, cuteness, maybe?