I'm free, to do what I want, any old time

One of these days, I fear I will be found dead in mysterious circumstances on a Monday morning and some CSI-style person is going to make a meal of the fact that the backs of my hands and wrists are covered with bruises and small abrasions.

Such things are, of course, the result of an all-day rapper practice on Saturday, followed by a rapper pub crawl on Saturday night. With the best will in the world, you end up with swords scraping over your knuckles and forearms and taking small chunks out.

But you know all about my rapper weekends... too much dancing, too much red wine, not enough sleep. So instead, I present some new culinary experiences from the weekend:

( Christmas Pudding Cheese )

( Haggis and Whisky Soup )