Another Sunday

This evening, Sunday, worn out and several things have happened:

1; I invented a process which enables me and everyone else should they chose to use this, to skim off the oil from a gravy. The gravy must contain wine and wholegrain mustard unless you’re doing it wrong and must go back to Sunday roast school. About the only useful thing my Uncle Monty taught me was to fill up my gravy with red wine, no matter what the meat, I’ve added wholegrain mustard and recurrant jelly plus a multitude of secret ingredients which will remain secret and theres no way any of you can take them off off of me. Use a spoon to skiff the oil from the gravy? Not me. Take a slice of bread, and tear into maybe 3 or 4 pieces, its up to you, do what you fucking want, i’m not a cult, you can use your own mind. then take each nugget of bread, or breadlet as they are scientifically called and place atop the meniscus of the gravy, wait, and lift. Oil will have clung to the gravy, this bread must be kept for breakfast and fried to within an inch of its life

2. My daughter did rather well in her GCSE’s, you know the ones she didn’t take, and so we had Champagne, the drink which costs a shit load and nobody really likes, which is a fact. Champagne is as pleasant tasting as a lemon curd rocket to the nasal passage, it’s foul but so expensive so as we, the gullible public, pretend to like it.

3. I don’t think I like wine, i’m 48 and would rather drink Ribena to be honest, if only it contained alcohol, it is acceptable to add Ribena to wine to create a slightly nauseous fruit cup. Wine is not nice, only a handful of times have I really enjoyed a glass of wine, so lets get together kids and bring down the Fascists of Wine, the Vino Vandals.

Thats it, deal with it.

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