Triumphant.

All ye who doubted my culinary abilities, please stand and cheer.
I cooked the perfect roast dinner. perfect. No grumbles from the men about the toughness of the meat, nothing, not a complaint. Perhaps they were just being nice, but I like to think I was the master chef.

haha.

I'm heading back to Hamilton for another weekend of god only knows what, I'm thinking I should steer clear of town and the dirty boys who seem to lurk on every corner, ah, I exaggerate, but isn't exaggeration fun?!

No but I am, heading back to the town of old, where I have so many memories and so many non memories also.

as in, I can't remember shit, too many drugs were consumed and too much alcohol absorbed, possibly through osmosis.

Lets all sit in a puddle of alcohol and see how drunk we get...

Does that work?

Has anyone tried it?

So my column I wrote, the magazine is in recess.
recess.
i love that cartoon. love it.
feeling the need for chocolate...