Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Heart Attack On A Plate
“Champion?” he says.
We nod our heads. Four of us chose The Champion.
The Champion is my nemesis. My Kryptonite. The thing I could never conquer.
The Champion is 16oz of meat. Two buns. Onion rings. A mountain of salad and sauce. And chips. And chips. And starters. We had starters. Garlic Bread. Onion Rings. Scampi. Chicken.
An avalanche of food. An overdose of cholesterol. Heart Attack on a plate.
“Nobody finishes the Champion” he says.
He’s right.
My friends are lovely, funny, clever people. A life without friends is a poor life.
And Minou rocks.
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Good to meet you at last, Mark. Or it would have been if I hadn't died of a Champion coronary shortly after leaving Bridgford.
I think I ate about 1/4 of one burger. It was a whole lot of meat. It looked a little grey too, so perhaps not a whole lot of nice meat either.
Still. It filled a hole.
She *is* a cute cat, incidentally, not that I'm obsessed.
ST
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Still. It filled a hole.
She *is* a cute cat, incidentally, not that I'm obsessed.
ST
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