Tuesday, 7 June 2011
The village of the damned
Sometimes the only thing that can save you is a Tesco meat feast pizza. And then you know you're up to your gullet in trouble. But so, somewhat predictably, it was the other Monday. Walking round Tesco with your brains hanging out of your ears and your eyes going in different directions can lead a man to make choices he could regret. The kiss off from making such a purchase was that there were no looks cast back in anger - it actually tasted fucking amazing - At the time of consumption, which was the day after, the combination of cheap meats and pure dirt was like a rubber dinghy to a drowning man. A much needed meaty tissue to the tears that inevitably follow three days of getting totally murked. Thank you Tesco. Here's a brief display of what happened...
Mr Creamy's been round again
Lunch and din dins all at the same time
The only way to watch the football