I've just grabbed a Guinness Special Export from the fridge and I'm sitting in my undertrolleys*. A sure sign that it's over 30º C.
Here's a label to put you in a summery mood:
Hang on. Dolores is serving garlic prawns. Back in a minute. Or so
. . . . . . .
Back again. Salad for tea, because of the heat. Not that you needed to know that.
Back even further to the whole point of this. Book tarting.
20% off the threee Mega Series books I can manage to update. No images, my arsing level not having improved.
* Dolores reckons the correct spelling is undertrollies.
"You know what undertolleys means Dolores?"
"Yes. Underkecks. And "ies" is always the ending of words like that. It's U N D E R T R O L L I E S. That's what I leaned at school."
It's easy to see why I love her.
London Murky: still a thing - *I was out for a pint in London with a mate who has a weakness for strong, hoppy pish, and wanted to play along.* We chose a collaboration beer, a joint ef...
1 hour ago