Friday 8 November 2013

The King of the cleaver



















In order to enjoy and live life to its very boundaries, one must surround oneself with masters in their field. A gentleman's arm must be adorned by the finest example of female pulchritude, his frame bedecked by the most talented clothier and his feet shod by cobblers of exemplary panache. Mr Roy Porter, my Master Butcher, is one such gifted artisan who lends his craft to my humble existence. His cutlets are a phenomenon to behold and his sweetmeats are the talk of Chatburn and beyond. I salute you Mr Porter, long may your bacon slicer rotate.

Thursday 7 November 2013

Blackpool, I never loved you


















Hmmm, Blackpool. Once home of kiss-me-kwik adorned headgear and drunken ginger gangs. Incredibly, this place has managed to slide, like a discarded '99', even further into the gutter.