Bye bye badman

Been such a good boy today. Got up early and wrote three recipes before breakfast - that's me done until the end of March with watery Whitbread recipes from the that most exhilirating of decades beer-wise, the 1950's. I've saved the best until last, dropping through the gravities from the watery to the less than watery, before plunging the real, er, watery depths. Can't wait, can you?

I have to bash out a load of this stuff. Since I unwisely started wearing the grindstone of daily posting as a necklace, long holidays have become a logistical Haversham. Can't guarantee time, inclination, sobriety or net connection to ever post while off viking. I preload posts for the full stretch. A 10-day trip is bad enough. Two weeks of posts needed before off-fucking. 15 days means near enough three full weeks worth of bollocks.

Why don't I simply stop posting every day? You don't know me if you'd ask that question. Obsesssive isn't just my middle name. It's like the full name of a Leeds fan of a side that won the league with 11 brothers from the Obsessive family*.

Wrote another three posts this evening. Four, including this. Ten more days until I travel. Sixteen more posts to write. That's almost one a day.

Numbers**. Can never give those tricky temptresses a rest.




* For those of you non-1970's curious, that means Ronald Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Obsessive Pattinson.


** I really have a book that has more numbers than a lottery.