cNutgroist

oh dear.

i had a bottle of wine for supper last night with a side-order of roast chicken. then i went out to a friend's birthday to help welcome the new Beaujolais edition. To my much-abused palette, it had a slightly sulphorous smell and quite an alcoholic, almost petroleum taste to start with. And that was the best bit. There follows a strangely unsuccessful combination of pineapple and strawberry - you'd think that'd be nice but it wasn't - and nutrasweet. As it hits the back of the throat and goes down, i was reminded mainly of battery acid. And the thing is, i was told this was the best it's been in years. So we all drank loads

i then go home to my still not recovered MM and open up a bottle of Mirabelle Eau-de-vie, just to make sure I stay drunk through til today (which i am) and accidentally tell her about how i was going to blog the end of our trip.

And she hit the roof. She did not start any arm twisting, any blackmail, ball-clamping or spitting at me (i got all those later in bed). No, she simply lay on the settee, put her head to my ear and screamed 'PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! PROMISE ME! except for a good 5 minutes until she wore me down and i promised her.

so i can't say what really happened in our last two hours in Vienna. It involved both moral, spiritual and bodily disaster. We did crimes. Not big ones and not completely intentionally. But we committed bad acts and we're both very sorry for them.

Well she is.
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