I could murder a Bombay potato. Fear not, I call the city by its correct name, but in my head the potatoes will ever be ‘Bombay’. I don’t need to call the Duck anything but ‘revolting’, so that’s one problem eliminated;- )
I could probably murder some of the chicken too: sounds like a delicious meal and a lovely evening.
It’s not that this shop is full of things I’d like to drink (there are two more rows of beer behind me), it’s that it’s in a tiny German town that’s not even on the way to anywhere.
Chatelaine has been abit Bonkers recently, TBH.
A combination of cruel air pressure, days of extremely high pollen & UV, methinks.
Anyhoo, I am trying, fairly desperately at times, to do abit more, after last weekends Sleepathon and, to that end, I have been to town every day this week so far.
Tomorrow is supposed to be my last stint, azzitis going to be Effing Hot.
As the week has gorn on I have been getting dizzier & sneezier, bit am ok ATM.
Dizzy, Sneezy, Itchy, Sweaty and Grumpy have shown up for shift. No idea where the other two lead-swinging short-arsed bastarts are…
Don’t go mad, Darling. In fact take it v easy. Sympathies re dizzing and sneezing.
Gxxx