"I keep on faaaalling..."
Being a full time member of the "Famine Guild", when I'm hungry I'm marginally worse than a Biggest Loser contestant at a Mandarin Buffet.
For instance on Friday, I was out on the town having a nice seafood dinner with a few friends. The restaurant of choice was packed, and the 5 minute wait for a table was excruciatingly painful -- I was HONGRY (Yes, I said it "hongry!").
What's a boy to do, other than bolt out of the restaurant (as his friends are being seated) and grab a Snickers chocolate bar from the store across the way? And we can't quite forget about demanding more bread as the waitress brings out the first basket.
But such was ghostly pale in comparison to this fine act of savagery:
Savoury vegetables, pasta with sun dried tomatoes and breaded chicken breasts were on the menu for dinner last night. Upon stacking my plate, I headed downstairs toward the big screen tv, armed with a plateful of food and a tall glass of water.
Sure enough my slick dress socks (which looked fabulous with my sport shorts) slipped. I lost my footing. I tumbled down the stairs.
Remarkably, I managed to hold on to the glass of water, preventing major spillage. My body was less fortunate, it had taken a beating. My legs, shins and feet had slammed violently against the edges of the hard oak stairs. My arms were numb. It felt as if I quite possibly may have broken something.
My inanimate body lay at the base of the stairs surrounded by a wreckage of greens and pasta. My first reaction?
Reached over, picked a piece of chicken from the floor, and ate.
It doesn't get any lower than that folks...
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