Been at a friends 40th birthday enjoying a few ciders. Home to relieve the babysitter (ahem) and just cracked open some proper scrumpy, pressed by a good friend in deepest, bumpkin-est Oxfordshire, and it has been maturing for a few good months.

It tastes lovely, but I have a lot to do tomorrow….

You relieved the babysitter! You deserve it. You know you do.

She was mightily relieved… 8)

My poor liver. Scrumpy very tasty but potent.

Drink it all, enjoy it, don’t worry about tomorrow, it never comes (unlike the babysitter)

But there’s 2 litres of it…I suppose I could entertain the idea of not drinking it all.

Cue tomorrow at 6am….”Daddy, why are you being sick?”

Don’t even worry about it. I challenge you!!

In the words of Captain Barnacles, “Let’s do this”. In for a penny…

cider is made out of the hopes and dreams of tiny kittens who will never achieve anything in their lives. That’s how sour and horrible it is.

Their feline misfortune tastes like ecstasy to me.

Edit: And I like the taste of ecstasy.

I like the taste of ecstasy

I always found it a bit like paracetamol, like you could tolerate it for a few seconds whilst you found some water, but once it started properly dissolving, it was horrendous.

Sorry, did I say ecstasy? I meant Marmite. It’s proper scrumpy, mind.

Update please? How’s the stomach? Always a mess of the ablutions after some scrumpy drinking

Woke up dribbling on the sofa at 2.30am, defeated; there was almost a litre of scrumpy left. I have let you down. sorry.

Up again at 6.30. Several teas/coffees later and I’m off to the rugby in a couple of hours. I think some hair of the dog is in order.

Top work! Impressive effort

Home to relieve the babysitter (ahem)

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