Comfort Food

Life is full of ups and downs ... Right this very second for me, it's more like down. Down the drain to be more precise. Whatever. Since there is no way i am going to ramble on why i am feeling blue tonight, and since i really dont want to be writing a depressing post, i wonder what the hell could i write! jaja.


I just find it funny what people do to protect themselves against blueness. Some people isolate themselves, some people cry, other need to let it all out and talk about it for hours. Generally, none of it is really too healthy but what i do when i feel blue is even worse. I eat. Preferably sweet stuff. Anything goes. Especially the things that i try NOT to eat on a daily basis to avoid become the tower my dad always threatened me i'll become (that is one long story).


Double deckers nutella sandwiches (at least a couple of them) with this awesome "bimbo kids" bread i find here, always accompanied with a coke (since i am a strong believer that any chocolate or chocolate-like taste should be accompanied by coke) or at least pop. Talking about comfort food. It'll make me feel ten times worse when it all shows on my butt in a few days but oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do.


Since i already shoveled down a couple of those doble deckers 10 squillions calories a mouthful sandwiches, i went on second gear and chose the next best thing after chocolate: PASTA.
I am the biggest pasta fan this side of the world, if not of the world. I could eat pasta for lunch and dinner 7 days a week. My GP told me, pasta, once or twice a week. Once or twice a WEEK? Are you sure it's not once or twice a DAY? Well listen, you, mr GP, italian people eat pasta way more than once or twice a week and i cant fit in any of their damn pants. So they're tiny and slim and fit. So screw them all with their no-carb diets ... The "carbier" the better. That's the whole purpose of comfort food. Make YOU feel better, not your body. That, well that, will have to come right afterwards. And no, puking is not an option. There is no way i'll indulge in the sweetest most awesome sandwich or the highest pile of pasta ever to then throw it all up. NO WAY.

I feel so bad i'd actually kill for a cigarette. Too bad i'm asthmatic. And i havent been smoking in so long it would taste vile. Well, you know what? Sod it. Sod it all. Hell yeah, i'm lighting up one right now. Right this second. (* damn where is my puffer?)


So for those who wonder what was on tonight's comfort menu at Mathilde's restaurant:

*** Starter ***

Doble Decker Nutella Sandwich on Bimbo Kid Bread

Recommended (and accepted) drink to go along: Coca Cola (half liter can)

*** Main Course ***

Pasta Made Mont Fujiyama Assorted with Grilled Chiken Breast

*** Dessert ***

Marlboro Red Evilish Smoke

Recommended drink to go along: Triple Vodka Cranberry (damn it ran out of cranberry - ok triple on the rocks then!)

Viva los carbs y viva lo dulce! Woohoo.


*** last minute update *** OK now, too much sugar made me hyper and i cant sleep, pasta filled up my stomach i look like a 6 months pregnant woman, bloody fag made me so dizzy i might actually puke and the vodka, oh the vodka ... it has been so long. It's like having sex with an ex. It is wrooooong but jeez does it taste good :p