Yesterday’s slip in to the fiery pit of hellfirefood could only have been drug-related. It was the sun (or something in it). The serotonin or keratin or paraffin or whatever.
How else can you explain today?
Because today I am in the office in Southwark where, less than 86 paces from the front door of the building, is a Pie and Mash shop.
I have walked past this Temptress of Food twice four times today and succumbed not a single time.
So I think all the gasps and finger-pointing that I was subjected to yesterday should be withdrawn.
Or this plate of Mash and Liquor gets it.
(only joking! i really haven’t been in there)