The diary of a bemused Boomer
Sunday. I walk into the kitchen hoping for a quiet breakfast brew and an update from the papers on Boris Johnson’s latest falsehoods, fabrications and fibs, only to discover that overnight Netflix have converted my kitchen into the film set for a new version of George Orwell’s ‘Animal Farm’. The place is swarming with youngContinue reading “Sweatbreads? What an offally nice idea”
I’m at a festival called Pigs in the Park. Or something similar. It’s one of those faux festivals, where there’s no sex or drugs or rock ‘n’ roll. It’s as close to the real thing as a tour of Madame Tussaud’s. The scent of marijuana has been replaced by the smell of BBQ pulled pork.Continue reading “Pigs in the Park”
My diet came off the rails and i got stuck in the buffet car after a four day Boomer bender