Just to prove I never throw anything away...

......

I have to say, I'm particularly flattered that the esteemed Dr Oddie remembers that piece of work, and has seen fit to bring it up in my blog comments, as he only taught me Religious Instruction for one year at Southend High, and had left by the time I completed my study of Joseph in year two. That's what I call a good memory. But I expect the news of my "extremely perceptive personal assessment of Joseph" (personally dictated to me by my Dad) was passed on to him by Mr Lewis, the teacher responsible for the comments above, and a man who was clearly as gay as a daisy in May. Although the libel laws of Great Britain prevent me from saying so.

But anyway, thank you Dr Oddie for your kind words. I feel quite guilty now for referring to Southend High as a Nazi concentration camp on my bio page for the past two years.

And I'm sure you're genuine, and not a member of my family irresponsibly posing as a man of the cloth. Even if you did forget you were a doctor for the first two posts.

Anyhoo, I arrived home from Brighton at 1am last night, but not before I'd spent an afternoon gazing wistfully at the menu in Shakeaway. Interestingly, the people before me in the queue all seemed to be ordering extravagant milkshakes which involved placing whole individual strawberry cheesecakes, mountains of toffee and nuts, or giant chocolate bars into a blender with milk, ice cream and custard.

But not me. Oh no. I'd listened to a certain someone who had advised against such luxuries. I knew it was a good decision when the man behind the counter looked at me as if I was mad and said "a lime milkshake??". I said yes, and pointed to it on the menu. To his credit, he gave me another chance. He picked up a cup, wrote the word 'lime' on the side, showed it to me, and said "THIS???" with a concerned expression on his face.

Perhaps I should have picked up the look in his eyes which said "no one ever orders a lime milkshake", but I went ahead anyway. After all, the shakes are a set price no matter what you order, and having seen the decadent treats added to other people's cups, I was fully expecting at least two fresh limes and an umbrella in mine.

So I was naturally disappointed when he opened the fridge, took out a plastic Jif Lime, squirted a bit in the cup, and said "here you are". But not as disappointed as I was when I got outside two minutes later and found I could barely taste any lime at all, and appeared to have paid £3.35 for a cup of milk.

But hey, I'm sure it was less fattening than the jam doughnut milkshake I could have had. Especially as I burned off a few calories violently cursing Carol as I walked down the street. So it wasn't all bad.