I swear by herbal teas…. yes, I ******* hate them

Well I don’t actually hate them but I hate what they do to people . . . don’t get me wrong… I don’t mean the beneficial effect of detoxification and purification, it’s just that on simply uttering the words ‘herbal tea’  people take on a smug self-satisfied look – holier than thou and certainly purer than thou. I’m sure that along with many men, I feel this especially when my body (which is, of course, a temple) is actually craving industrial quantities of  Wainwright’s Old Reductable or some such beer brewed to a traditional recipe guaranteed to dissolve your liver whilst making you feel wonderful, without creating the gently glowing halo which the very presence of herbal tea seems to generate. Also listen to the saintly way in which people say the phrase: semi-whispered in a ‘meek’ but certainly ‘inheriting the earth’ sort of way.

Incidentally I can’t remember ever hearing a male ordering a camomile tea . . .well, except here in our village . . . . but that’s simply because ‘una camomila’ is a euphemism for a glass of white wine . . .

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You’ve seen the fantasy . . .but this is the reality

I posted a picture of my ‘workspace’ a while ago….

Nice huh?  yeah but this is how it is now  . . . . and normally . . .

 

 

 

 

 

Of course, for many people this is quite organized, but this is unbearable chaos for many of us who are chained to the idea of universal order . . . . . those of us who will only stack books carefully in a tower of decreasing size, who cannot stand to see a row of pencils with one pointing a different way to the others, etc. … yes, you know who you are . . . fortunately both my wife and I are similar in that way. In the chaos of the January sales whilst I was struggling to get into a pair of Levis in an optimistic size . . . my wife was carefully refolding the rejected attempts …. amidst a chaos of determined shoppers which would have registered on the Richter scale.