Beef. Meat. Fatty tissue. Say it with me….PROOTIIEEN. This meal was so beautiful, so natural, so right, that I can only have pictures describe what a thousand words would take:
To add to the bestiality, I pull all the forks and knives in the dish washer while the beefy mass was in the oven. I had nothing to rip through the flesh other than my God-given hands and teeth. I assumed the Mr. Peepers circa Chris Kattan stance to demolish my meal, and was thankful I was the only one home.
As I sat back with my belly full, wiping the bloody juices from my chin, I knew I was in for a rough tomorrow. I slept soundly enough, only to be woken up what can only be described as a hung-over in Vegas kind of stomach pain. I gave up alcohol for the week to feel like this? I downed a glass of much-needed chocolate milk – my ultimate health cure – and accepted the cheat with my head hung low but stomach soothed. But hey, what’s one little bitsy glass of milk when I was down 5.4 lbs!