This is a super random post.





I've forgotten what's it like to really enjoy your food and not care about how much calories there are. Not like I really do count them BUT I still feel a slight twinge of guilt at times...

Last Friday reminded me of the happy times when calories meant zilch. Those were the days. Hahaha. After gym (yes, ironically), felicia and I were deciding where to have our dinner when she suggested a health-ier meal at subway ps. Happily we made our way there but somehow did not manage to survive the short walk from the mrt station to the outlet. Something just pulled us into carl's junior, made us sit at a small tiny puny table, and then hypnotised us to buy our western bacon cheeseburger meals, complete with criss-cut fries.

That did it. We threw caution out of the window and simply devoured the calorie-packed food. Being the nice me, I enlightened felicia and introduced the Way to her. A smart disciple, I can say. She almost immediately mastered the Art of Piling-Salsa-Sauce-and-Fresh-Salsa-on-a-Criss-Cut-Fry but took sometime to warm up to the higher level skill of Stuff-the-Fry-into-Your-Mouth. It wasn't all graceful and pretty but I definitely didn't care less. I was already up to my neck halfway through the pack but I was having so much fun that I continued to stuff fries into my mouth. BURP.

It sure got messy. Over 10 small trays of salsa sauce and fresh salsa were emptied into our stomachs. yum yum. I live to eat.