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“The society which has abolished every kind of adventure makes its own abolition the only possible adventure.” Paris, May 1968
Friday, 18 May 2012
First cast the sarni from thy own bag.
Armed with a flask of tea and a bite to eat I set off this morning for a days work down the allotment. The bus was a bit crowded but I managed to find a seat and plonked myself down next to another passenger. The bus had hardly pulled away when I thought, "Bloody stroll on! What's that smell?" Only later did I discover that the smell in question was actually coming from the Camembert sandwich in my bag. How easy it is to misjudge others.
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1 comment:
An experience I am familar with, mostly due to my fondness for the nostril enlivening boiled egg 'n' onion sarnie. A gastronomical wonder that seems to increase in odorous intensity the more one attempts to encase it.
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