Day Three of the Sausage Festival! The weather has stayed fair, so I had my third consecutive barbecue.If I close my eyes I can see little Cumberland sausages dancing across my retina. Sometimes they wear little waistcoats made out of pork chops. They sing “We are the meaty men! We are the meaty men! We are in your tum.”
I fear that this amount of red meat cannot be entirely good for me. I am awash with testosterone. I have strange urges to build flat pack furniture, and am feeling faintly attracted to Anne Robinson. Tomorrow – if my arteries do not constrict completely overnight – I am considering eating a vegetable.
Nightcap
15 years ago
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