Cold, winter crept up with the stealth of evolution! You know it’s coming, you are told it’s coming, but when it comes it surprises the shit out of you. One day it its reasonable, (in fact the bike made an outing), the next you’re scraping frozen cats from the path! So it was with a heavy heart I started my search for more solid accommodation for the BMW. (I fear the winter snow will castrate the fun I could have in the roads). As it turns out, the cold snap offers a new sort of culinary experience for lunch! Soup! I haven’t had soup in ages. Oh how it goes with a bun and butter (that should start some arguments off, it’s a BUN)
My day started with a washing machine sized load of unmentionables, then as I was let down at the last moment by an idiot, it turned into a dryer load size! (Hoping I haven’t shrank me t shirts again, I left the flat to forage for winter shelter) before I left however, I stuck to old Mary Berry’s advice and mixed me fruit again (day two, well, one….. I think) and as it had drank all the blood brandy, I fed it again (another problematic lodger in me flat) after washing me arms and changing me trousers (spelling brandy in yourself before you go for a drive isn’t the most sensible thing in the world, I reeked) I made my way to Crambodia.
Why do I do this to myself, I’m sure in recent rants I’ve explained the culture in Cramby, there are a certain set of attributes you must share around here, (the same gene pool for starters) when I look hard at both Crambodia and Ashghanistan, I find a leaning to the latter suits my needs, needs of some sort of fucking normality! Alas, no shed type shelters here, only one more place to try and that’s the garden centre (ITS FISH AND CHIP FRIDAY) right, with that thought lodged in there, I’m iff for a gut buster. (That will keep me warm on me bike)