The Pub Culture Will Be The Death Of Me

So I met Jamie and his customers/co-workers last night for a few drinks. Good God can they pack it away. Once again I had a bottomless glass of wine. Gee, could this be the reason I'm barely fitting into my clothes? I think I shall stay in tonight and leave Jamie to his mates for a pint.

I am a bit gratified to hear some of them are a little worse for wear this morning while I'm feeling surprisingly fine. I'm even up for traipsing over to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard today.

The boys wanted to try Christmas pudding. I warned them not to expect it to be like American pudding, but they didn't heed me. Both of them promptly spit it out into their hands. Not exactly Jello brand chocolate pudding is it? Beats fruit cake, but not by much.

This is the picture of our neighborhood pub, but not where we were last night. Davy's is their den of iniquity of choice.