If last night is anything to go by, today is going to be a shite day. I had a regular, pleasant evening where I ate four meals, half a block of cheese and 4 soft biscuits (well I couldn't let Queen Of Fun discard these beauties could I? There was real coconut in them). I then proceeded to walk the 45 minute uphill journey home, to relieve the guilt I felt at having eaten so much (mainly because it wasn't my food) and to think about the poor state of Queen of Fun's fridge. Too much meat, not enough cheese and 2 tubs of butter were the highlights. SO after I puffed my way up the hill toward my home I realised that all this walking (like, actual exercise) and thinking abuot food had made me hungry again. I got all excited as I tore up the path quicker than I could yell 'fat turd' and headed straight for the fridge. Ther was no 'hi mum and dad' no biscuits for the eagerly awaiting doggies just me, throwing myself face first into the fridge with a smile as wide as my ass. I yarked open the door only to have the smile crumble from my once lit up face and I crashed to the ground as my legs gave way and I landed in a heap on the floor, grazing both knees and chin in the process. I had forgotten, in my haste to feed my massive face, that it was Thursday. Thursday is quite possibly the worst day of my week. It's the day before Friday which means it's the day before shopping day. If I had been disappointed with The Queen's fridge I was distraught at what I saw in my sparse fridge. There was a courgette (an illegal tasting type of vegetable), 4 hairy tomatoes, an empty jar of gerkins which I later drank the juice out of, and wait for it, half a tub of fuckin' HUMOUS. Jesus mum and dad why do you do this to me? I mean usually I am not averse to eating uncooked popcorn kernels or frozen peas or lemon curd from the jar to feed my over eating compulsion but there was really nothing I could do with the contents of this malnurished (sp?) fridge. I knew the cupboard would be equally uninspiring. I was right. CHopped tomatoes (at least hair free), some lentils and a packet of oatcakes that had been there since last Xmas. As I saw my life dwindling before my eyes, as I lost all will to be on this godforsaken foodless planet I had an idea. It was an idea that was my safe bet. I knew somewhere I could go, within spitting distance, that would give me a choice of about 7/8 main meals or I could combine these 7/8 meals together to give me some wicked taste explosions. I had to do it, the salivating action that had taken over my mouth told me there was no other choice. And so I opened the microwave door and I knew it was the only thing to do. As soon as I opened the door I knew it was right, I could smell the cheese and veggie mince and oregano and tomato and jam and coffee and chocolate and other unmentionables. There was more food in here than in my entire house, this was going to be a real good feed. I could have fed my whole family (extended and everything) with the amount of food that was encrusted not only on the spinning plate but also that was splattered up the sides and on the door. Once I had selected a dinner of 3 week old macaroni, 8 months old chips and cheese and 2 year old chocolate sponge I was quite content. After the plate was licked as clean as it had ever been I discovered a slab of beef under the plate ring. As my family has been vegetarian for at least 15 years, there is no telling how long this beefy delight had been there but with a bit of mayo (foosty) it went down a treat. The only critisism I have of my banquet which would have done any wedding finger buffet proud, was the distinct taste of lavender that was apparent with every mouthful of decaying food. I then remembered that my mum repeatedly uses the micro for heating up her lavender heat pack to soothe away the pains of living with The Fee so that's why my food tasted so floral and why I slept so good last night, until I awoke with severe stomach cramps around 5am. I guess that was the Queen of Fun's cooking then. I put the heat pack on myself to try and eradicate the pain of food poisoning and was treated to a wee snack of tuna and pasta that was encased around the side of said heatpack so there was my midnight munchies sorted. And so I go to harrass Queen of Fun for making my have the gary glitters and to not enjoy the pain of ring sting.
Eating: my own vomit