No wonder American's have perfect teeth
Feel rough today. At 8 o'clock this morning I had a dentist's fist in my gob supposedly giving me a deep root cleanse. It frickin' hurt. It's the 3rd time I've been to see him in 4 weeks - no wonder American's have such bloody perfect teeth and I also woke up with a really sore left shoulder - god knows what I was doing last night in my sleep? Breakdancing it feels like.
My mate Big DG has gone home. It was a great time and I already miss him being around. Think we crammed as much in as possible: bars; restaurants; The top floor of the Hancock
building; brunch; Oreo shakes; Millennium Park; Mag Mile shopping; Saturday afternoon College Football; A live Bulls game (they got hammered); Soldier Field; the Lake; more beers; Fogo de Chao
(endless servings of 22 different cuts of meat - it is truly obscene); Navy Pier; Piano Bar; Sports bar; more food.... no wonder I'm shagged.
I'm planning a quiet weekend, I need to get my fat belly down to the gym - it's only 28 floors down the lift for gawds sake, will probably meet a mate to watch a bit of footie and clean my apartment up. Then we have an ex colleague here from London for two weeks starting Monday and two more mates arrive thirsty and excitable on Thursday for a long weekend.
On that thought I'm off home for a lie down.