Sunday the 11th : Savory, the review

Easy-peasy-lemonsqueezy like Sunday morning. The greatest perk of living in a Sunday is you can sleep and wake and sleep and nap, and of course not to forget, to sleep, whenever u feel like.  Precisely like what the heavenly rasta old man ( read it 'man' please, note 'men') with dreadlocks said in his sluggish song. You can watch every telly show and falling asleep in the process. What is on earth could be more soothing than that?

How very ever, ancient wishdom alwayst tells us, that every sensous delight comes with it's price. There's no such free complimentary pleasure. Not as long as the sea is embracing the the coast and the celebrities are divorcing still. When the dusk comes to haunt you, it's a typical Sunday lazy dizzy hangover for your service. Too much untidy naps, block the blood supplies to your tiny busy neurons. To make it even worse, the thought that a full long and winding weekdays of work waiting ahead you with their subtile smile. And just like that aren't awful enough, the young man is starving very badly. He has just reminded by his belly that he hasn't got a meal all day long.

He drags himself into the kitchen and find nothing to eat, and neither to cook. Not even an egg, he used to fry emergencily. Slight of relief when he finds there's still half plate of rice. He adds last drops from an old bottle of sauce, or something seems like that at least.And that's all and the young man dines voraciously. That is ultimate delicacy he ever felt. Last time he can recall that he ever sup as humble and as tasteful at the same time, is the days he was in the wild. 

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i rate 7,5 out of 10