I can’t keep eating like this or my clothes will stop fitting
It was well worth the food coma I find myself in two hours later you guys. I’ve already made plans with my lunch mates to go back next week and do a blog post on it. It was that good. My friend and coworker, Bebe, had never had a gyro (pronounced like euro) before. There’s this hole-in-the-wall Greek restaurant in Lodi that we never knew existed with great pricing on food that I found through Yelp. Good ol’ Yelp pulling through for us again. I walked away with some amazing freshly made hummus and overfilled myself with pita and french fry goodness. Again, well worth me hating myself. Like Lewis CK, I don’t stop eating when I’m full; I stop when I hate myself. I mean really hate myself. Where I’m falling asleep where I stand and I can barely hold a conversation with another person. Then, I’m hitting the snacks a half hour later. What can I say? I get knocked down, then I get up again.
No, I’m not listening to happy 90s music on Songify. I have no idea what you’re talking about.