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Send My Conscience Home in a Taxi

Externalised Memory

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Of Kebab's and Yoghurt
Dancing Kitty
Popped into my new favourite kebab joint on the way home from the gym. And, as usual, do you think I can tell you the name of it? No, my brain doesn't work like that. It's more like "the kebab place with the glass front just south of Northcote Central on High Street."

They're the real deal, Halal and everything.

Anyway, thought I'd get me a shish meal thingy, then read that they had a Yoghurt Drink - which I also can't remember the name of. I wanted some to take away, which confused them... So they popped out the back... and came back with a Mount Franklin bottle they'd decanted the stuff into! Excellent! Half a litre of slightly bitter dilute yoghurt stuff... I can't finish it... *burp*