Guilty Pleasures

Not much to report today. Not even much in the paper that I read on the bus on the way in. There is a story about the Culloden Battlefield, which is complaining of families using the grave mounds as picnic sites. A father of one family clan was seen leaning against a headstone eating a scotch egg and smoking a cigarette. I know, I know, scotch eggs are disgusting and a guilty pleasure but they’re also a weakness of mine too.

L complains of another guilty pleasure and last night setting a new world record for the most number of fish fingers in one sandwich, after we got back from the pub. I didn’t notice; I was too busy eating up the leftovers from the curries we had on Wednesday but ‘one sandwich’ seems almost saintly to me and think of the good it did for her omega whatsit levels.

I’ve come on the bus today as I have a works night out which doesn’t start until 7.30 but it’s a waste of time and effort to go home and come back, so I do a bit of post-work shopping and then settle down in the Brunswick with a magazine and a pint of Railway Porter to kill the time.

Our works meal is at a new curry restaurant called the Viceroy, it’s their second branch in Derby but I haven’t been to the other one. It was ok, nothing wrong with it but there was nothing special about it either. There are that many ‘posh’ curry houses these days it takes something special to stand out and this one didn’t manage that feat. Still a good night though.