Christmas is coming. Fuck, it’s almost here. My weekend was initially geared towards getting all the purchases done, all the necessaries sorted so I’m not rushing around in the last two weeks. Guess what.
What actually happened was we walked past a few shops with murmurs along the lines of ‘look in there on the way back’ and ‘here’ll be something for A in there’. So naturally, at this time we went and had a pretty damn good meal. Ordered a 3 pint Growler (mainly out of curiosity) and some of their trays of meat. I think mine had wings and ribs on but don’t quote me on that. I’m talking meats that have been slowly smoked past the point of deliciousness and into some sort of zen-like BBQ perfection. Ribs that fall off the bone. Brisket you can cut with a spoon. Pork so pulled that it’s asking to get a taxi back to my place. I’m drooling about it right now. Shout out to Red’s for that.
Needless to say, after tray-fulls of meat, fries and beer shopping didn’t go well. I’m prepared to say disastrous. So you’d think that surely, surely on Sunday I’d make up for the lost day and get it done, right? HAH. The gym happened. A nice chat about life direction and fulfilment. Beer. Fifa. Beer. Curry. Beer. Bed. I can remember lying down and thinking to myself that the day had somehow passed with me still reeling from protein. Might also have been the beer though.
So anyway, Red’s BBQ. Good.