Woke up. Still full. Eating this much should be illegal. It can’t be any less unhealthy than narcotics.
Of course, when one is very full, the first thing that one should do is go on a picnic. And eat. Well, that’s what we did. But it’s ok, because by the time we ate, we weren’t feeling sick anymore. It’s a beautiful cycle. After sitting around for a good amount of time and making fun of the Pope on TV, Sarah and I packed a good portion of food into a variety of plastic containers and headed off. We went off to the Fitzroy Gardens, unfurled the picnic blanket and started on a combination of meatballs, schnitzels and potato salad, not to mention several types of biscuits.
After that, we walked through the city looking for somewhere to go. Of course, it was Christmas Day and nothing was open. After wandering the streets for quite some time and encountering nothing but closed doors and Hungry Jack’s (not classy), I found that Section 8 (pictured), a bar in Tattersalls Lane (off Lonsdale Street) was open. So Sarah and I sat and chilled while enjoying a glass of sparkling wine, which we called champagne because it was cheaper that way (and we still got the same enjoyment).
We then came home, packed for Syezd tomorrow and headed over to James’ place for more food (largely dessert by the time we got there) and Guitar Hero. Now we’re watching Fight Club (back at mine). I’m going to cut this short now because Edward Norton is beating himself up for some reason.