Nothing can prepare you for a beauty you have always felt. A field as flat as a wicket; an enclosure of monastic solitude; a building burned in to cultural memory.
I find it odd that the precise moment I am in most need of my full faculties for self-promotion and pushing myself forward, I am at the lowest ebb of confidence in my own abilities.
I am an only child. It has shaped me in many different ways, some positive and some negative. I just wanted to tell you all a few bits about it all.
Food is very important; food is not important: make your mind up, for goodness’ sake, Richard. OK.
What I am looking for is something fresh and foreign, delivered to me at the time promised when I place my order. I want as little human interaction as possible, and I am willing to pay.
I am not going to sit here in my ivory tower of intellectual detachment and tell people to “get over it”. Do not get over it. You will never get over it.
If I were in a Michelin starred restaurant, surrounded by all of the opulence and decadence which modern fine dining affords, and the option of a Full English Breakfast were to be offered, I would not hesitate to order it.