I'll be eating chocolate and spraying aftershave to mask the smell of my evil feet if anyone is looking for me
If you came here expecting to hear about the Easter weekend exertions, malarkey and indeed endeavor of me, Manuel T Waiter, then I'm sorry for it shall not be today dear readers. For I am so utterly shattered from the weekend toil that I am unable to share with you in any way, that could be considered adequate or indeed amusing, the untold joy that was the last three or four days at work.
All I can offer you is this picture of a lovely piece of toast.
But I shall return forthwith, in other words tomorrow, and spread jam on that toast, metaphorically speaking that is, with stories of Canadians, Russians, Italians, a table of thirty singles and a woman who had never eaten fish. It was a delightful weekend all told. I'll be eating chocolate and spraying aftershave to mask the smell of my evil feet if anyone is looking for me. The shower can wait.
If you are looking for something else to do can I ask you to pop over to Desked and vote for our new banner.