Pork Sweats

It is ten past 4 in the morning. I have just awoken sweating profusely despite the fact that it is very much Winter. This is not due to some fantastic heating system I have in my flat - no - it is, I can only assume, a result of my having had too much pig. Let me explain. Last night, I had what can only really be described as "the tea of a madman". Having next to no food in my flat (cupboards as bare as a Mother-Hubabrd), I grabbed my arctic fleece, crampons and pick-axe and dived (dove?.............Dave?) into my freezer to see what delights I could liberate, defrost, cook, burn, ruin and consume. All I found was, well, a confusion of pork. 4 pork chops, which I had clearly thrown in the freezer in something of a shopping induced strop (easily done), which had become one and the same. So, as I thought you couldn't defrost, cook and then re-freeze pork, and after having struggled unsuccesfully to separate them, I decided to eat them. All. All 4. My tea was 4 pork chops and half a can of baked beans, decorated with a little sauteed (bollocks, it was fried) onion and some grated cheese. FOUR. PORK. CHOPS. I phoned my Mother later that evening and told her. She sounded worried. The sort of worried Mothers normally get when you are 17, locked in your bedroom for a week and a half listening only to Radiohead. She simply replied "oooooooooooh, that's too much meat". She (as Mothers often are) was right. 8 hours on from my "meal" I am, whilst not in agony, not very comfortable. I have the pork sweats and it serves me right. Who eats 4 pork chops? Not even a large dog. FOUR!!

Anyway. That's enough pig/dawn gut ache news, how are you? Good I hope. Oh, I just found out I won £7.70 on the Euromillions, excellent, I can afford some indigestion medicine now. I suppose I better try and get some sleep. Goodnight. Sleep tight. (FOUR!)