Feed me, Seymour!
Friday, October 23rd, 2009 12:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanAll things considered, it is not inconceivable that I may have marginally overindulged in the pub last night. Not to the point of steaming delirium or staggering intoxication or anything, but perhaps one over the eight.
I am not hungover in that klaxons-blaring-every-time-a-moth-farts sort of way and bright lights are not drilling through my retinas into my cortex. What I have got is that slightly queasy feeling that makes me think of slow-turning cement mixers deep down in my giblets. I am also fearsome hungry: I have just scoffed my sandwiches an hour ahead of schedule and I am looking at my bag of salt and vinegar French Fries with the sort of hungry expression that would make small animals quail.
In an hour or so, I may have to go out and buy another sandwich. Not a big one, but something just substantial enough to keep me ticking over this afternoon, especially since I have just cracked and opened the French Fries.
I am still hungry, but that cement mixer feeling has dissipated. I must now find something else to grumble about.
I am not hungover in that klaxons-blaring-every-time-a-moth-farts sort of way and bright lights are not drilling through my retinas into my cortex. What I have got is that slightly queasy feeling that makes me think of slow-turning cement mixers deep down in my giblets. I am also fearsome hungry: I have just scoffed my sandwiches an hour ahead of schedule and I am looking at my bag of salt and vinegar French Fries with the sort of hungry expression that would make small animals quail.
In an hour or so, I may have to go out and buy another sandwich. Not a big one, but something just substantial enough to keep me ticking over this afternoon, especially since I have just cracked and opened the French Fries.
I am still hungry, but that cement mixer feeling has dissipated. I must now find something else to grumble about.