The king of all the pizzas. Ah Dominos. How do I love thee? I still recall your phone number, but then, I have woo'd aplenty. And no, dear reader(s), I am still not peckish. I was chatting to a Swedish/Thai girl (yes, yes, get over it boys) at dinner. She has 2 male, American mates who stayed at Spa Samui and did the 7.5 day fast, and during it...got pizza delivered. I don't know what's harder to imagine - eating pizza mid-starve or actually having the nerve to get it delivered to reception. These people take it ve-hery seriously. Like pineapple juice is cheating. Eating the coriander out of your broth: cheating. Drinking more than 2 coconuts a day: cheating. I'm amazed pizza didn't warrant the death sentence.
It's ... 9ish? Annnd I could not be more wide awake and energetic if I tried. Initially, this bothered me, but I'm super-alert all day too (that's important - be alert - the world needs more lerts).
Will Day 4 be the day that Slackinson FINALLY hits the wall? Place your bets, people.
Off to watch more House. A posse are off to the beach tomorrow at 1pm, so I hope I'm more lobstery for next blog.
'Kbai
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