Shriving The Night Away

Shrovetide is over and only the vast expanse of a cold & grey Lent is before us, so I have decided it is time to prepare my cardboard box full of straw and descend into a deep hibernation until the too-perky tortoise fiddlers come to tempt me out of my slumber with their sweet, brown eggs. I have spent my last remaining days of fat pleasure scouring eBay in order to replenish my Seven Inches Of Cheese whilst systematically shuffling armfuls of Martika postcards.

As the leftovers in the kitchen cupboard mainly consisted of aubergines & taramasalata I had to venture out to procure the eggs, flour, noodles, coriander, oyster sauce & prawns needed to create the traditional Shrove feast of pancakes & Phad Thai. During my mission I stopped off to gaily play with my faithful pet shopping trolley, but was rewarded with a good hard knee-grazing by the voluptuous asphalt. I bandaged my barely bleeding joints with the conveniently placed Behemoth-Sized Tissues Of Doom and, despite being a sievless colander sifter, proceeded to fulfil my destiny of sore throats & gloopy batter. Mmtoss.


Currently listening to Seven Whole Inches Of Cheese