The day that's in it.

So I graduated yesterday. I thought I aught to look at least passively clean (for the mammy and her many many photographs) so I shaved. For the last few years when I have shaved I've used an electric thing and, cause of the occasion, the serial killer in me appreciated ritual that's involved in manually shaving and orderliness that's needed[1]. Anyway, I was visited briefly with an experience similar to that below in course of my wont ...



It was only for a fleeting moment but I had water, shaving foam, a razor and for a moment I was just staring at them. Mystified. Luckily I didn't jump at the razor in a dazed state of disorientation and panic.

To close the night I got some Middleton Very Rare at a bar of some description. At a tenner a shot it's towards the more expensive side in the list of drinks in which I've indulged (probably the most), but man was it delicious. Before this my favourite was Poit Dhubh, a Scotch from Skye[2]. It's €10 but it comes with Niall's two thumbs up!



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[1] Very complicated stuff.
[2] To my undying shame.