arancini said...
Ive never done it, but lived in a share house in Scabs years ago, with a bunch of blokes one of whom was a Kiwi, and a dish pig at Contacio's, he was addicted to cheese and alcohol, the combination of which would send him into a mad dream state. We would dare him to eat a block of cheese and then sit back and wait for him to fall asleep, and then watch as the terrors got hold of him. It was terrifying as he was truly possessed, the night terrors exist. It got to the point where it wasnt funny any more and we would only do it once a week or so more out of a morbid interest, sort of like picking a scab, you dont really want to do it...do you....? He would come back to the house after working and unload the day to the housemates, declaring that he would never do it again, he quit, etc etc, he had good prospects and could have easily moved into a better job, but the spiral of life kep him there, sort of trapped in a vortex, the dream state, (with the cheese) was his portal, and his escape. Hes probably still there......
LOL!! Thats so what it's like .Well it was for me stuck in that vortex (but without the cheese) Grumpy uero chefs,exrtaverted ****s and overtly sexual waitresses...wierd lot those hospitality workers.It was hard work and i hated the place but for some reason i coudn't leave.Any self esteem i had was flogged out of me..... i was a worthless dishpig

Eating left over rissoto and cold chiken nuggets and swilling the dregs of the penote , standing for hours on end in front of a steamy sink in greasy wet hyatt dish pig uniform with waterlogged feet.....NEVER again.