Protest!

After all that marching on Saturday we ended up in Mahaffy's, except it isn't Mahaffy's any more, it's The Lombard, and a far cry from the grubby place I used to frequent. Marching on an empty stomach should have taught me something, but I misinterpreted the signals and believed my body meant beer. Now given the choice between food and drink, food has always been my first love, but often enough I don't mind a threesome. This occasion was a blatant infidelity (and she's a demanding mistress). By one in the morning I was engaged in some pretty reprehensible behaviour. I did suffer the next day though, oh, suffer I did! In true 'as in Heaven so on Earth' style, the public protesting of the day before became a very private revolt by my insides.