Why yes it is. And boy, it was good. Even though, in my dangerous quest for ill-gotten time-off combined with the stubborn confines of a self-inflicted grocery budget, I have been eating questionable leftovers for the last few days. I like to call it "Leftover Roulette". And this fresh Chunky Chicken soup, mixed with the painful bloat of the unidentified Zombie Chicken exhumed from the freezer depths didn't play well together in the slightest. Had I not known what I was doing, I would've mistaken my bilious stomach pains for a heartattack.

Clearly, I'm the experimental type. What's even more telling is the fact that my mom did the exact same thing yesterday with the exact same results by eating some Not-Quite-Done Barbecued Chicken from the University Medical Center's cafeteria. Rotten apples don't fall far from the tree, do they? And if they did, apparently, I would eat them.

The wicked soul of the dead Zombie Chicken lives on to haunt me this second day. Because fully recovered, except for a swagger from a sore muscle and a new sense of bacterial awe, somewhere deep in my gutt, Zombie Chicken says I must figure out a way to top myself again. So maybe that's why I just ate Leftover-Leftover-Leftover Soy Protein Chili atop Leftover Saffron Rice. For breakfast, mateys. What unholy thing have I done? It's barely 8:30am. But please, enjoy the free fireworks.