Ave Sundae

Blood was 6.5 this morning - which is what happens when you eat lots of carb late at night and do precisely buggerall in terms of exercise.

Am sitting here, on a break from the increasingly pulse-pounding deadline I'm working to, and watching Raymond Blanc, the fanatically enthusiastic French chef, banging on about the connection between religion and food, and vice versa.

He's in Provence, and has grabbed a handful of little almond sweets from some poor girl with a tray and a stupid hat.
"These are like marzipan," he explains, "made from the local almonds...and I can eat them with absolutely no guilt. You know why? Because the priest has blessed these sweets - which means the Hand of God has blessed them, so they're guilt-free..."

Quite apart from some mean, factual heathen asides about what the Hands of God have been up to in recent years, this idea is enough to make me want to go to my local church, grab a priest and drag them to the nearest restaurant, to bless the bejeesus out of the biggest, sluttiest, let-him-who-eats-them-put-on-the-first-stone sundae...and then chow the fuck down...

Wonder what the cost of a Special Sundae Dispensation would be in hard currency...