Friday. It makes so much more sense than the (previously traditional) Thursday slot when you remember you have no Essex train journeys to wake up for on a Saturday morning.
Besides, a red wine hangover is a very different animal to the beer hangover. Furry, fuzzy, bunged up, blurry. Not good when administering Business Loans at 8am.
In the early stages of red wine drinking, you are dancing around your kitchen like a gazelle in heat, if the gazelle in question wore a silly hat.
But, combined with Wotsit overload plus other delicacies, you fast become a puffy, bloated, achey mess by the end of the night.
True, the Wotsit dice roll was kinder to me this week, but only marginally, with 5 bags required to be eaten rather than the 6 I really struggled with last week.
The wine was from Turkey, an Okuzgozu grape variety, the wine called Diren Collection, recommended by the three chaps in my book. I was initially skeptical as the last time I drank a wine from this part of the world (Bogazkere, week 11), I found it disgusting!
Sadly, I'd failed to read the handy hint that said 'drink this wine young, don't get one that is more than 3 years old' so I was in dangerous territory with this 2017 vintage.
I must say, considering the lightness in colour, this was a difficult wine to consume. Pleasant whilst I was eating, but very challenging. A bit rough around the edges (old world wine?) I'd say and the drunkenness hit me 60's Batman style like 'pow! kablam! thwack!' , despite 13% being a lower ABV than the previous two weeks.
Taking the lead from my book once more, I knocked up a simple little aubergine pasta dish with smoked chicken, olives and parmesan. Follower Andrew Mackean (or Number 45 as he's more commonly known) suggested exactly what I'd been half thinking, it would've looked better with a bit of green leafy stuff for decor but hey you live n learn!
'Twas very tasty anyway. AND on a plate for once which I'm sure Tom Irvin (sorry, Number 4) will approve of!
Music was not blasting from the tapedeck of my Sony stereo for once, instead some modern Bluetooth device chugged out songs from the now defunct Bomb The Music Industry who are my band of the year so far.
Nice early start anyway, and a few minutes before 7pm, we were (well, I was) ready to sit down for the film. It had been a horrible day at work (well, 'Working From Home'), and the promise of this moment was what had motivated me to power through the afternoon!
The onward trend of the dice roll taking me further down the list of Westerns continued. This is frustrating as I'd love to see more of the 'classics' in the top 20. Having said that, for a film at #86, The Professionals (1966) certainly delivered.
I just couldn't help but think 'forerunner to the A-Team'. After all, you had this band of four cobbled together mercenaries / fortune seekers given a task to perform.
#WWWSI hero Lee Marvin was the head honcho, in the sort of Hannibal role (well, he had white hair), Woody Strode who you may remember as being excellent in week 7's Sergeant Rutledge, playing the B.A. role (well, he was black), Burt Lancaster as Face (well, he was a ladies man). The only one who didn't match was the anonymous 4th bloke, who looked a bit like a Paul Whitehouse character but had none of Mad Murdoch's madness. He just liked horses a bit too much.
Anyway, this up-his-own-arse rich rancher asks them to track down his wife, who has supposedly been kidnapped by, you guessed it, the token evil Mexican. And he wants the A-Team (sorry, Professionals) to get her back.
Anyway, Burt L and Lee M were like "hmmm, we know the Mexican and he's actually quite a canny gadgie" and as they finally caught up with them and got ready to set the village alight, it transpires that good ole' Claudia had gone off with him voluntarily cos they were old high school sweethearts or something. Awks for the ranch owner. Blow to his ego too. Can't remember the exact ending.
Point off for having zero pub scenes, closest we got was when they paid a visit to a local goat farmer in his micropub ......
We did get a bit of train action at least if you are that way inclined, at one point they did the Settle to Carlisle line over an early version of the Ribblehead viaduct, but with none of the histrionics.
And as tough as the eating/drinking experience was, this was easily my favourite film for a good few weeks, certainly since Destry Rides Again in week 25. Good job Professionals!
ANY OTHER BUSINESS
Next weekend we have round three of the WWWSI trophy, so if you are one of the 16 left in it, how are you feeling? Nerves jangling? Confident of a place in the quarters?
No new followers again, and after five in one week, none for a fortnight so I think #WWWSI has maybe bottomed out now, and 62 is probably the peak. Not a bad thing though, we don't want the Springtime Pizza Cup to become unmanageable in the group stages!
Next week is a landmark of sorts, Week 30. Despite my opening paragraph, good chance it will be on Thursday this week as I'm off work on Friday. We'll be watching Hang 'Em High , eating THREE bags of Wotsits, plus a cheeseboard with some smoked sausage, drinking a Petit Verdot from Australia and listening to some Aussie folk-punk.
See you then, and have a tolerable week.
Si
I went back and read the Goat & Muncher line and laughed loudly, but I have just drunk one of those overpriced craft cans from Morrisons (Siren Breakfast Stout with Cacao and Cherry).
I'm not sure I actually read any of the actual words, but this IS the best blog anywhere, along with Blackpool Jane's blog about imaginary away trips where she eats 3 cream eggs in Ipswich.