The Princess' Last Supper

Sadly my reign as a "special" eater is over. Apperantly my sous chef friend has been scolded to catering to everyone's diets after my initiative. I can't say I blame others, I mean.. if I could, I'd say I'm on an all ostrich diet- simply to benefit from the super expensive dishes we serve. Alas, I will have to eat the same meals as my co workers. Luckily, there's always salad readily available- I just may have to grab a burger and pass the bun.

Everyday on the walk to work, I always pass the same homeless man. Here's the thing- he's been around for years and I always notice him on Queen St. when I'm walking about. Monday to Friday, he seems completely sane- and I've actually chatted with him on and off when tossing him a loonie (which has acquired me a daily nod of recognition). However, if you catch him on a Saturday- all bets are off.. I feel like there may be a sale on street drugs that starts at 6am on Saturday (or maybe tips get better - are they tips or donations?). He turns into the life of the party on Queen St, and as far as I'm concerned deserves a stage. All of a sudden, the reserved kind street man turns into Jekel- grabbing women's boobs, yelling out obscenities, and general chaos instigation (I almost feel like my loonie donations are admission to the shit show on Saturday). Perhaps I should save my burger bun for him.

Well, I hope this makes up for my lack of posts.. I've been diligent with all my eats today- and am now off to play bingo with the most talented ARTIST I know, Vicki Skandalaki. Have a good night all, and until tomorrow.. skinabee you later.