I ate a mountain of chicken wings at Sneaky Dee's last night. And fajitas. And nachos. And beer.
It was for professional reasons. You see, Maria does chicken wing reviews on her blog. And I asked: What, you've NEVER tried Sneaky Dee's wings?
Joey came with us. By the end of the night, there was a graveyard on my plate. Urp. My dining companions seemed to have more energy than I did at the end of the night. Maria was like a firecracker, dancing to Joey's accordion, making requests for songs she could sing or dance to.
The food was good. My stomach? Really sore. I passed out in a wing coma within minutes of arriving home.
Kiff does this thing where once he starts working, he forgets to stop. So he got home, starving and exhausted at 10:30 and all I could do is hold my belly on the sofa and drift in and out of consciousness. Wings!