A Certain Chagrin

PICTURED IS Jimmy, regular-raver at 'The Lion and Unicorn' pub (with upstairs theatre) at Kentish Town. He accosted me a few months ago, gripping my hand like a long-lost, with suprising strength. This happened much to the delight of my colleagues, but my chagrin.

New Years Eve also provokes a certain chagrin within me. Three words which have come to mean bungled plans, unfairly excessive hope for the next year and also bloody awful transport. I'm not proud, but one Hogmanay I even managed to decant a pint of Pilsner into a video recorder in a stranger's North London pad.

Thus this time in lieu of frequenting some beer-soaked, tear-damp, pavement stone-cold square, or unfamilar house with fuming video aromas, I am battoning the hatches with the company of some good bottles including a heavy, bubbly magnum which I may well bathe in...

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Earlier today I was accused of being a Glutton, having pleasured myself with two puddings at Pizza Express. I thought the following, definitions made by an early church leader, might help contextualise, although I refularly feel 'guilty' of all five:

Praepropere - eating too soon
Laute - eating too expensively
Nimis - eating too much
Ardenter - eating too eagerly
Studiose - eating too daintily

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Happy New Year to family, friends, family-friends, readers and current/prospective employers, to all of whom I raise a brimming glass of Ripasso; Life's '07 vintage will be fun.