Chicken stock as brain lubricant

This morning I woke up to the alarm clock from my cell. It irritated me, so I turned it off, forgetting that my girlfriend needed to get up.
Back to sleep.
Wake up again. Fuck, she'll be late.
Back to sleep.
Wake up again. Rip off the blankets from sleeping, crusty-eyed bedmate.

"Get up! You'll miss Maoism!"

...I now realize sleeping in and cutting class should happen more often.

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I'm addicted to the Cantonese soups that Nathan, my absurdly tall, elitist roommate and friend has been making. They aren't necessarily the soups that your grandmother made with care and precision.
Cantonese soup making goes exactly like this:
-Fill pot 2/3 full of water and boil
-Add a whole chicken or a whole chunk of pork belly, berries, nuts, or any of the funky dried shit in local markets that foreigners almost never dare to think about.
-Simmer.
-Drink the broth.

Mostly they're for medical purposes, but are a much more enjoyable alternative to liang cha (herbal medicinal tea)...plus, damn, it's wayyyyyy better than chugging a bottle of water. Flavour from pork fat is pretty well ultimate.