Saturday pub: inviolate

You can take away the cheeky bottle of Punk IPA that I drink whilst cooking Friday's dinner. You can take away my workday bacon. You can take away the leftover buffet from other colleagues' meetings.

But you can never take away my Saturday pub lunch.

Three hours of scurrilous rumours, slightly-doggy-smelling cushions, little-finger-thick cheese with local tomatoes in a just-so-buttered cob. And... beer.

Thornbridge. Dark Star. Oakham. Blue Monkey. Potbelly. Leadmill. Bottle Brook.

The new lifestyle is all about give and take. Take away the crap calories I consume Monday-Friday. Give me the indulgence, the satiation, the normalcy of a Saturday pub lunch. I promise to be a good boy through the week.

Honest ;-)

As a concession, I didn't have my customary slice of pork pie today. That's how serious this diet is.