you big bad bird you

im lying in bed listening to the Beatles and nursing a food poisoning hang over...sniff

last night was bill and victoria's (another friend) joint 50th (they both are 25...clever-no?) at a really lovely sardinian restuarant in peckham and there were about 35 people which was very cool and we made a lot of noise and ate lots of food.

I took one look at the menu and 'it' jumped out at me...phesant...i have an instant draw to adventure, the call of the wild is always upon me and if i see the possibility of a new experience...

my phesant arrived. it was mahussive and covered covered covered in thick red wine sauce. i was told by te oh so sweet waitress that i had to eat it with my hands...it wsa like putting my hands in blood...oh wait, hang on, there WAS blood. oozing out of the pores of my big fat phesant. uhoh. so i sent it back having already taken a few 'fateful' bites.

when he returned he was great. it felt like living in the days when kings and queens chopped off people's heads, we lived in castles and rode horses with big pointy hats and streamers catching the wind. in the days when it was polite to burp...knawing meat unashamedly...

and then...as i was walking home with Bill i got that sharp stabbing pain that can mean only one thing...my oh so effecient 'get rid of the bad bird' system kicking in...had the same when i ate cow intestine (with grass still in it) out in colombia.

anyway...10hrs later and another sleepless night, im kinda fragile and not sure im going to eat phesant again in a hurry...hehe