Day 20 - Feast Day

Third time had better be a fucking charm.
I hate blogger sometimes. Perhaps my enormity of my giant stomach is keeping blogger from publishing this. Who can say. On with the (freak) show.

Today is Feast Day:

"Protest against our anorexic times by stuffing yourself in Roman Emperor style all day long. Invite all your friends over. Lie down rather than sit, as it's less tiring and makes it easier to slip into sexual debauchery if necessary. Prepare all the dishes ahead of time so eating is not interrupted. Chatting may be allowed provided that it does not impede the flow of food. Copious drinking will help wash it down. Once you literally cannot stomach anymore, vomit and start afresh. When in Rome..."

I cooked some sort of casserole thing that consisted of Quorn Naked Cutlets (meatless "chicken breasts" for those of you not in the know...) on top of herbed rice all smothered with a creamy lemon sauce. It did not look pretty, but it tasted very yummy.




This did terrible things to my waistline. Notice the red marks. And the pants whose buttons are about to give out. (But be kind; I have had two children after all.)




My friend's waistline looks worse than mine. And hairier I might add.



There was no copious drinking or sexual debauchery to be found which is disappointing, I know. I didn't bother to invite anyone else over because Josh is, as usual, on my couch this week.

The only question remaining: Who gets to do the dishes? I don't have roman slaves...