Sometimes, words simply won’t do.

While I lay recovering this afternoon on my bed, considering whether or not I had the wherewithal to get up and make camaron tinga tostaditas, my wife called and asked if I really felt like cooking. Answer was–go to KFC and get me some biscuits and a chicken pot pie!

Can’t remember the last time I had some goddamned fast food, but y’know–that salt-laden, super fat stuff really hit the spot.

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We sat down to watch Argo and I thought to share our chicken feed pic with you.

For those interested, I am peeing into a cup to gather what pieces of sedimentary grit will come out of my ureter after the ultra sound bombardment. So far a few small sandy bits of grit, so the ultra sound apparently did its job.

No pictures today of my bloody urine, sorry!

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