FOOD glorious FOOD!!
Don't worry about me - oh sorry you weren't - anyway, I'm fine except that I wasn't allowed to eat for over 24 hours beforehand.
Now call me a skinny shortarse if you must, but I do love my food. It’s one of my few remaining pleasures.
At 8.00am on Wednesday I was allowed one slice of white bread with a scraping of yellow stuff - NO MARMALADE. Bad news as Marmalade is my favourite food and this is my favourite marmalade. I have a special spoon to get to the bottom.
After feasting on the slice of white bread I survived on a bottle of Lucozade and several cups of black coffee. Oh and a glass of Sauvignon at 9pm.
All day I fantasised about food. I would have sold my granny for a tomato sandwich with Hellmans and black pepper.
I tried to read my current book for a while - ‘Brick Lane’.
Unfortunately on page 127 there's a description ... Monica Ali writes 'Fresh coriander made her swoon for the chicken. The deeply oily aubergine beckoned lasciviously. She wanted to stick her tongue into the velvety dhal.'
Food as sex - That's too much!
In the evening I picked up a magazine and was mysteriously drawn to the cookery pages at the back. Like a lonely sex starved bloke looking at a porno mag who can't touch and can't have but still loves to look , I lusted over the pictures of roasted Mediterranean vegetables, tagliatelle with smoked salmon and cream and almond tart. In my kitchen I found a previously unused cookery book with lovely pictures which kept me drooling until sleep released me from the ordeal.
What would your fantasy food be?