Breakfast the Thirty-Second

Honey Nut Cornflakes and banana.

I have just returned from food heaven, namely Cafe Marlayne on Thistle Street. I feasted on scallops and black-pudding, and then Monkish with mussels in a scrummy lightly curried sauce. Yum, yum, yummy, yum, yum. No breakfast will ever match this. I think I'm going to have to become a more accomplished cook. I do a good line in comforting nosh, but can't really make anything that a Frenchman wouldn't turn his nose up at.

Must take myself off to bed pronto. I slept terribly last night. I kept having nightmares and waking up with my heart-thumping as an awful white spectre loomed overhead. Turns out the spectre was my lampshade, in the same place it's always been. Ho hum.