Ribs!

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I truly love those things.  To start, fatty beef.  Right.  Now put that on a bone only a dog or right man, and smart woman, could love.  You... haven't heard that joke, Santa?  Anyway...  Eating it, hot off the grill, is a messy job.  What man job isn't?  I also cooked the chicken drumsticks.  I ate too many ribs to eat chicken.  All good.  I wasn't sure I would, could, eat at all.  I needed food, right food, but was sick, green about the gills.

I actually feel better for it.  I really wasn't sure how that would work.  Though, to be honest, if I ate six ounces, I'd be surprised.  Just remember, fat meats are exceedingly filling.  But add in chewing it off the bone and it gets even more filling.  Toss in a portion of connective tissue as well.  Something about the raw carnal hunger being psychologically, or spiritually, fed as well as the belly.

Bedtime.  I'll put the chicken up, then sleep like the dead... living dead these days.  I am hoping to get the dishes and laundry done first thing.  Not today, but I did well for as bad as I felt.  I'll keep at things.  I made final decisions and ordered swim kit.  It is supposed to be in Tuesday.

Good night.