Due to our elevated social status, this evening my wife and I ate slow roasted pheasant and chorizo in a white wine and butterbean sauce, with sprigs of thyme and garnished with parsley.
This makes me out to be
“Considerably Richer than You!”
Or it could have been that one day in January, I was persuaded to buy 2 pheasants (a brace) from the local butcher with some fresh goat which I needed for a Jamaican curry I was cooking. Another story. The pheasants had been cluttering up the freezer, and due to their irregular shape, I have been unable to stack horizontally within the compartments. I’m possibly a little OCD, but then who doesn’t like a little order in the freezer, space is at a premium, I have not nor can I afford one of those enormous American Fridge Freezers, much as I’d love one, this then makes me out to be,
“Considerably Poorer than You!”
Who gives a shit anyway, Prez Trump told us today that if he is impeached “the markets will crash and we will all be very poor” I’m already poor, I don’t live in America, and he’s a massive dick from where I’m standing, so get rid and lets see maybe some other reality TV star in charge. For a little whale and then we can all vote him/her off in a telephone vote, with a chance to win an all expenses trip to Vladivostok.
Today, on my way up into the woods, i saw a muntjac, and shortly after that I saw 2 larger deer, could be Roe, i’m not sure as I can barely see at the moment. My glasses are hideously scratched and the arms too loose so they tend to slip down my nose. I’ve had the test and it seems i’ve reached the point of no return; I need Varifocals! There I’ve said it, I now sit firmly within the middle ages.
So to compensate for my agedness, being the wrong side of the mid 40’s I will be purchasing some funky brightly coloured spectacles to make me feel young again. Being deluded the youth will see through my cynical ruse and mock me firstly behind my back and then into my face. It is then I will start to talk more like my Dad did when I started to back chat. It’s only down hill from here.
My work today will consist of driving around the countryside, thinking what the hell I’m going to write for the Friday Fictioneers, and settling on some thoroughly unsuitable specs.
Here’s a dilemma for you all, is it ok to throw a banana skin into the undergrowth or up a tree in the English Countryside? It’s not a native species, and so is this littering in the broadest sense of the word? Moral Question of the Day.