I stood over the sink washing up after devouring this week’s meat. I started to think of what I’ll write about this week, apart from the obvious that is the meat I had just eaten.

I stood over the sink washing up after devouring this week’s meat. I started to think of what I’ll write about this week, apart from the obvious that is the meat I had just eaten.
I started out this week going on a bunch of different rollercoasters , literally and figuratively; the week started at Dreamworld Theme Park on the Gold Coast.
I may rabbit on as a guy about having to be a real man and not an oestrogen flooded, out of shape pseudo-man like many we see today, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act like children from time to time, hence my child-like enjoyment on ‘The Big Drop’ .
This has been a hectic and very different week for me.
Not only did I eat something not many people have eaten, but I embarked on two new journeys that saw me jump miles away from my comfort zone and into waters untested. For me.
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My realisation for this week is this: The earth does not orbit the sun purely in order for me to eat 52 meats in 52 weeks.In case you’re not counting along with me (for I most definitely am), this is week 35. 35 weeks out of an entire year in which I have a different meat each week.
It’s starting to get up there, and as I’ve discussed lately, that means I’m starting to run into a bit of sourcing trouble.