Fine Dining

Rushing between campuses at lunch today so it was either this or a baked potato that resembled something that had been hurtling around our solar system for eons before burning up in the atmosphere and splashing down next to the never empty tray of chips in the canteen. The taint of styrofoam and plastic are hardly noticeable after two 10p sachets of the finest broon sauce are squirted over the whole shrivelled mass. But, when you're Hank Marvin...

From the smells wafting under the door just now tonight's dinner's going to be much better.

On half term from today, bottle of Belhaven 8o Shilling slipping down nicely and plans being put in place for some blipfoto socialising in the capital tomorrow. Looking forward to it, and, unlike our friends down south who'll be freezing their danglies off, it looks like we'll be wandering the toon in our short-sleeved shirts.

Bring it.

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