December 27th 2019

Today was a classic post-Christmas day where you’re not really sure what day of the week it is but you’re drunk anyway and all you’ve had to eat is a plate of bread, cheese, and ham.

Christmas is the primary time of the year where having a ham sandwich for dinner is considered fancy and not lazy. It was Prosciutto, honey and mustard-glazed gammon, and cheddar on a tomato and pepper focaccia with a tomato and chilli chutney spread.

It was all good. But it was a ham and cheese sandwich with a side of crisps and Budweiser.

There is nothing sophisticated about that, really. Except it is Christmas bread, and Christmas ham. The cheese is just regular old extra mature cheddar because it doesn’t get much better than that anyway.

For beer, it was one called Pioneer IPA from the New Inn and it was surprisingly palatable. (Is that how you spell it?)

There was six, on the other side of three, and just before a sneaky one which made ten. Hence: drunk.

I’m almost sure it’s Friday, because I wasn’t supposed to work today. Though that would also be true of tomorrow and a Sunday in 1976.

Until tomorrow, it’s 27/12/19.


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