July 15th 2017

Today I watched a football match, played golf and had a barbecue. That’s one run short of a perfect Saturday. I went to golf with my Dad, my Grandad and his friend. There were three generations of Norman golfers on the course, and although I hit the ball harder and further than them both, I lost.


I just can’t putt.

It’s so fucking hard.

Well, actually, it’s so fucking easy and that’s what makes it so fucking annoying. I can hit the ball 180 yards on a par 3, land it on the green in one, and then take 3 shots to get the ball the extra 10 feet to the hole. How can I get it 200-250 yards in one shot, but take 3 shots to nudge the ball the last final little bit of distance?

Stupid fucking sport. But I love it.


I also love barbecues.


After golf we went to my parents’ house for a barbecue. Naturally, I was in charge of the meat. The first thing I asked my dad when I got there was ‘do you have any Halloumi’ and he said no, and that was upsetting. And when we’d finished eating an hour later my Mum said ‘oh no guess what I forgot to get out of the fridge?’

Guess what she forgot to get out of the fridge…



Man, I almost combusted.

Although, I almost combusted because of how much food there was too. So maybe we didn’t need any more food. Actually, what am I saying? There’s always room for Halloumi. (I’m capitalising Halloumi for two reasons, 1) because it’s become so important to me that I think of it as a proper noun, and 2) because the WordPress spell check reads it as a word with a capital H, but not without. I think the spellcheck recognises how important Halloumi is to me)

Today was a good day. I got to eat all (most) of my favourite foods with all (most) of my favourite people.

Until tomorrow, shame about the lack of Halloumi though…




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