An improvisatory, essentially indefensible, randomly configured tragi-comedy
(no great revelations are likely to be accrued from its consumption)
23 August 2011
Fear and loathing at Greenman
They had two bags of grass organic romaine hearts, seventy-five pellets of mescaline ml of aged balsamic dressing, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid packs of cherubino cherry vine tomatoes, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine oak-smoked salt, and a whole galaxy of multi-coloured uppers, downers, screamers and laughers dried herbs and spices; also, a quart of tequila raspberry & guava juice, a quart of rum kiwi, apple & lime smoothie, a case of beer assorted new world Sauvignon Blancs, a pint haunch of raw ether venison, and two dozen amyls Gloucestershire old spot pork sausages.
Holy Jesus. Who were these goddamn animals?
Somewhere, Andy Pandy's lifeless body lies naked in a nettle-filled ditch.
... and then everyone went home to watch The Great British Bake Off.