Yesterday Mum (you like that?) and I went to the Tower of London, saw the Crown of Jewels (including a 530 carat diamond) and heard the bloody past of royal executions from the beef eaters.
After hearing about all the gore, we got a bit ‘peckish’ as they say and decided to go for some traditional fish and chips, with the obligatory pint of Carlsburg. After all, it was my birthday and on my birthday it seems totally ok to eat enough fried goods to kill a prize horse. I thought I could handle the fish and chips, but just to be on the safe side my mom and I split an order after looking around and seeing how extremely large the portion sizes were.
The photo above of me eating the fish and chips was about the last time my stomach felt good for the rest of the day. After consuming my plate of fried delights my stomach was completely shot for the rest of the day. Despite the fact that I made my mom walk the 7+ miles back to our hotel from here, I still felt like someone slapped me with a bag of bricks. The waitress laughed and told me I needed to develop an ‘english stomach’ which to me translates, ” you need to welcome coronary heart disease with open arms lovvie!”
We WERE going to get indian food last night for dinner, as there are almost more indian folks here than brits, but we decided to pass on that for fear of….well, you get the idea.
oh, and by the way, these are my new cars.