Living in a flatting situation, there are numerous unspoken and unseen fine lines that usually are not crossed, but after a few liver lubricators in the form of some dutch courage, some of these lines start to bend, some start to blur and some get hoovered straight up like you're on the back end of a Dyson.
The unassuming flat freezer, the contents within, and who's the rightful owner of said contents is one of these imaginary lines that tend to get crossed, or should I say smashed through, like Jonah Lomu tramplin’ the English circa 1995.
And if this isn’t the case, it bloody well should be. Especially after 11 pm on a Saturday.
That’s right, in my seasoned opinion, the inner treats of ya dusty flat freezer are fair game after 11 pm on Saturday. So, let me proceed in woo-ing you over to the dark, but happily fed and watered side of eating ya flatties grub whilst sauced.
Come Saturday evening, you may find yourself melting into the furniture and resembling the human embodiment of the Windows 95 shutdown sound.
You've had a few cockies, you're feeling horsed, sauced and ready to fake some remorse. It's feed time!
There are multiple quick-fire reasons and points to make here to back up my hypotenuse and Pythagorean theory:
- Unless you're a little tipsy, no one's cooking/defrosting food at 11 pm sober. No one. Exactly. Move on. This hour is reserved for the stealthy ravenous boozey creatures of the night.
- Food delivery options really start to taper off at this crucial time, you don’t wanna be left with a slop fest of soggy nachos from a derelict servo, or an ambient, barely room-temperature burger, with a warm coke and cold limp-dick fries. You want fresh, seven-week-old frozen Hoki fillets my dawg!
- There's nothing more invigorating than completing a silent barnstorming run up the guts to feed the backs, AKA, the fellas in the lounge that are waiting with bated breath for the chicken nuggies and half-cooked jalapeno poppers. You'll look like a king among peasants.
- Food tastes better when it's not yours. Look, I don't make the rules, it's a science that even the Welly protestors couldn't argue.
- We’re adults - replace the food in the morning, then the flatties can’t get up in arms at ya. They weren’t planning a 3-course degustation meal at 4 am. If they say they were, they’re straight-up lying, or possibly, on drugs. Both should concern you.
- Whatever you eat and replace, you flattie will now be the proud owner of a new product that they can leave sitting in the freezer for another four months, 'til you probably eat it again. We call this the Ponsonby pie Ponzi scheme.
- A quote from known dairy thief and midnight snack connoisseur Tim: "I reckon if the ice creams open… fair game."
And lastly, I’ll leave you with these words of wisdom...
Similar to the saying... "nothing good happens after 3 am", "no tucker is being tucked into after 11 pm.. unless you're on the tins…"
So go forth hungry grog monsters, and tag me in your stories this weekend as you dive into some defrosted fine dining courtesy of Jessica's crumbed chicky fillets, yum yum.
