High-Octane Blogging

A more experienced blogger than I, with whom I was corresponding yesterday, informs me that in order to get people to read my posts, I should make them, and I quote, "entertaining". Clearly tales of my daily commute and stuff off the back of a cornflakes packet don't have the wide-ranging appeal I thought they might. Fine. Let's go for the lowest common denominator. Fasten your seatbelts, folks...

Last night I went for a meal at Pizza Express. In Streatham. I had an American Hot.

I know, I know, it's the kind of white-knuckle narrative that Andy McNab might be proud of. And what's more it's all true. My life obviously has no need of spurious embellishments in order to make it fascinating. No sir.

(Oh, all right then, it was a Hawaiian! God damn it, aren't I allowed a bit of glamour in my hum-drum existence?)

Looking back, I realise that I have made two glaring grammatical errors already. Just look at that preposition, teetering at the end of the sentence, exposed to the brutal finality of the full-stop instead of safe and cosy among its colleagues. It makes one's heart bleed. And I shan't even mention that 'aren't'.

So what else? Well, I'm currently girding myself for an evening in The Chandos, a pub local to my work, and one about which I feel duty-bound to say a few words. (You okay in there, little preposition? There, there...) Situated on Charing Cross Road, just north of Trafalgar Square, sits a quiet and unimposing public house, run by the Samuel Smiths brewery. As you may know, this means that the beer is cheap and, if you select carefully, very strong. Actually, careful selection would probably result in a modestly strong beer. I should say, if you select recklessly. Nowadays, for me and my colleagues, no other beer hits the spot better than D-Pils. At £2.70 and 5.9%, you can easily get yourself into a horrible state, in which you are a danger both to yourself and others, for less than fifteen quid. Now that, in anybody's book, is a bargain.

Aside from this, they have comfy sofas, a refreshing lack of intrusive music, and bar staff who ask how your day has been as if they actually care. I love it. But don't anybody else start going there, please. We don't want it filling up with your sort, thanks very much.

Well the good news is it's almost lunchtime, so this blog will now be terminated. The soup on the menu today is Celery and Celeriac. I'm not quite sure what celeriac is, but it sure is going to be fun finding out!

Later, folks.