Long gone are the days when I read that sort of stuff and loved it. And all those wonderful Russian authors. Nowadays, I'm too much of a lazy reprobate to even entertain indulging in such intellectual exercises.
I'm referring to the sort that comes about after buying something from the kebab shop. I realised some time ago that I don't actually like kebabs even if drunk so I now turn to their other offerings. Tonight, it was a tried-and-tested cheese burger and chips liberally doused in garlic mayo. The burger was ok but I felt my stomach rebelling against those chips that had been deep-fried in oil that has probably seen too many chips and too many drunken nights.
Please stop me from going to such places in future.