Food. I need it. I want it. NOW.

I wonder if in a past life, I was starved, because all I think about in this life is food. The clock had not even struck noon, and I was already thinking about what to have for dinner. When dinner time comes, I'll be thinking about what kind of snacky wacky I can have before bed. Whilst laying in bed, before I start naming my former UK players to drift to la-la land, I will think about what I shall have for breakfast. And this my friends, is why dieting never works for me. I'm a food junky. Is there some kind of rehab I can go to? Is that fat camp?

Because Sam's let me down last night and did not have my Golden Graham's cereal bars, I shall make my own! CHALLENGE! They will be spectacular, I can feel it. And for supper tonight, I'm thinking tortellini and Italian sausages or maybe hamburgers on the grill. Those would be yummy...if I can figure out how to work the grill without blowing my house to smithereens or burning off my eyebrows. Yet another CHALLENGE! Pictures to come (if I survive).

NOTE: "Blow you to smithereens," as uttered by Yosemite Sam: To disinegrate into small fragments by a sudden impact or explosion. "Smithereens" is an Irish word that means "small fragments." The notion of things being blown to smithereens dates from at least the turn of the 19th century. (http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/blown-to-smithereens.html)