One of the great pleasures in life left to a man is going to get the curry from the fast food shop. In this world of paper-shuffling and beurocracy, there is little that we can do that recreates the world of the hunter gatherer.
But a trip to the curry house. Well: that is enough to make the genetic memory of hunts for woolly mammoth stir deep in a man’s soul. The walk to the shop is like stalking the prey across the tundra; as I gaze at the menu I feel that I have the beast in my sights; and when I place my order I have made the kill.
It is good to know I am still a real man. Soon I will be eating bear poo with Bear Gyllis.
Nightcap
15 years ago
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