Fag Hag Diary

Friday (Hooray, btw. Oh that rhymes.)

And FH is back from the brink of death…

La Hagster. 

Hello boys… as a great woman once said (actually, I’m not sure it was such a great woman – wasn’t it an Eastern European lady in a 90’s bra ad with slightly Kings Cross prossie physique?). Anyway, the Faggy Haggy is feeling slightly perkier today having stared death – okay then, slightly annoying flu – in the face and also because I have a special birthday treat on the way.

Yes, that’s right, to make up for having to stay in bed sniffing and watching You Say We Pay on my b’day, I am being taken for a feast fit for an old queen this weekend. My lovely friends Jane and Jonathan are taking me to the Fat Duck in Bray, which has the sort of insanely creative menu  you’d get if it was put together by schizophrenic toddlers. Which means I can genuinely look forward to snail porridge, salmon with licorice, and sardine sorbet.

I’m off to do some anorexic fingers in ladies’ powder room stuff now to get my stomach nice and empty for the big day… (what do you mean, you don’t do the same?). Have a fabulous weekend!



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