Victory Or Death!
There is no aspect of my life right now where I couldn't stand on a table and yell this whilst brandishing some kind of implement like a Warrior Queen of ancient tales.
I'm made for it, built for it, vulcanised in the furnace of life, I'm like "meh, what you gonna do?".
But when this happens I don't want to cook.
It actually becomes impossible for me to cook an edible meal.
I loose the ability to prepare food.
Every attempt ends up in the bin, charred beyond recognition, all nutrition destroyed.
Even the idea of opening the fridge, freezer or cupboard is too much and become agitated and have no patience.
Weird, eh.
Chip shop it is, then.
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