This Was Probably Inevitable

...what?

Kentucky Fried Regret

So last night I decided to engage upon an experiment, in which I traumatized myself good and proper into never eating KFC again. See, the trouble with the Colonel's chicken is that you eat it, swear never to eat that shit again, then a couple months later you go past, smell all the sweet, sweet MSG in the air and think to yourself 'it smells soooo good... surely it wasn't as bad as I remember' and so you go back and continue the cycle of abuse.

Into the establishment I stroll, along with Annah who had come down to Wellington to visit the new flat for the weekend. I order the hot n' spicy fillet box, which comes with chips, potato and gravy and a drink. I order a pepsi max, and because I hate myself, I ask for the up size on the chips.

The food comes late. The chips are a few optimistic degrees above room temp, somewhat soggy and caked in chemical seasoning. The chicken however is burning hot and gets progressively hotter as I eat it, like some kind of awful hell-furnace meat. I have to juggle it about in my hands; I swear these fillets are radioactive. The spice doesn't taste like any kind of natural chilli or anything else... it's a chemical tang on the tastebuds that perfectly compliments the watery 'potato' and 'gravy' that I dip it into in order to cool it down. The drink is a pepsi max and provides just the last bit of bloaty over-carbonated horror I needed to rev up the churning mix of chemical reactions thats taking place in my stomach.

This meal was everything I hoped for; a test of determination and a reminder that sticking to a diet of real food for several months has raised my expectations to a level I'm happy with. As I turned to painfully waddle out onto the street and perhaps cry a little, I turned and read the slogan that was on the wall in large embossed letters.

"Real Life, Real Food".

You can't make this shit up.

Knocked The Bastard Off

Yeah... that Mount Victoria? It ain't all that and a packet of chips. Today I woke up and it wasn't actually sub zero temperatures so I was all like 'hell yeah I'm gonna climb you' and Mt Vic was all like 'bwahahaha nooo I shall deeefeeeet joo' and I was all like 'oh heeeeell no you didn't just say that' and I totally got up to the lookout.

Damn there's some amazing views going up the residential side of the mount. So very, very pretty.

Also, at the end...and hold onto your hats here, dear readers... I actually ran some of the way down. Running is not a pleasant experience for me, I tend to bounce to the extent that I feel like I need a whole torso sports bra or something, and cheap shoes give no impact cushioning whatsoever but apart from that I felt totally awesome making my shaky way back into the house at the bottom of the hill.

Incidentally

Don't bother calling me on my cellphone, turns out that living at the bottom of Mt Vic means my reception is next to non existent. Sending me txts still works since the service goes on and off all the time.

My home number will be posted on my livejournal.

Welcome To The Cold House

So I've moved into 34 Hohiria Street, which is in Hataitai and fairly close to the CBD and very close to a cute little village of shops and not at all close to South Auckland, so really it's a win win. To say that the house is cold would be like saying Michael Jackson's father is a monster - it's true but you don't really get the full nuanced justice of the situation. I woke up this morning with dead penguins frozen to my legs.

My flatmates initially struggled with the choice between retaining their health or paying higher power bills for a while, but after the second day of sliding to the floor every time we brushed against a wall and putting food inside the fridge to warm it up, we actually experienced a heated house and holy crap it finally felt like a home.

I'm yet to brave the all new Hill of Doom, aka Mount Victoria. It looms above my house; huge, silent, dark and very cold looking. Some day this week I'm going to brave the elements and see how far up the thing I can trudge before my legs give out or I become a meat popsicle, but tonight is for nesting on the couch in my jacket and catching up with News From Around The World.

Passport application will hopefully be sent off this week. Slay the fattened calf in celebration.

I Laughed, I Cried

This is possibly the best movie review ever written.

Contains some Transformers 2 spoilers, like it matters.

Also: AAAAGH AIR BENDER TRAILER. Please, please, pleeeeeease don't screw this up. Pleeeeeeeease!