i am now swollen
full of fish, chicken and lamb,
a fat city zoo
The secret government agency for whom I work has an annual curry night in the depths of Tooting. The restaurant has no alcohol licence but allows us to bring some along of our own, so I toddled in with a bottle of ‘Lost Sheep’, a white wine of which I have become very fond, as much for its surreal label (which features some kind of wooden Frankenstein sheep) as much as for its taste and alcohol content.
As has become tradition we paid a flat fee of £17.00 and had interminable dishes brought to the tables with the result that, as turnout was low this year, most of us were full by the time we’d sampled all the starters; popadoms, chicken tikka, onion bhajis, lamb kebab, lamb chops (yes that’s what I thought) fish tikka, fish bhajis and samosas.
I did have a bash at the biryani, which was delicious, but could fit no more in, despite the necessary lubrication of the bottle of LS.
I got home to find the Ugly One assembling our Christmas Tree and realised we have had our Christmas fairy so long that if she were real she’d be pregnant and in her own council flat by now.
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