Tom
I am a FH squatter
- Joined
- Dec 22, 2003
- Messages
- 17,217
Picture the scene:
Its 10AM on a Sunday morning. Its sunny, but pleasantly cold outside, the kind of cold you have to walk into the garden to appreciate. The kind of day where you enjoy watching your breath in the cold air.
You walk inside, check the bacon under the grille, take a sip from your boiling hot mug of Yorkshire Tea, and keep an eye on the toast. You pick up the knife, butter in the other hand, waiting for the toast to finish.
It pops up, you liberally spread the yellow goodness all over, and grab the bacon. Chuck the bacon onto the toast, and you're just about to pop the toast 'lid' on your bacon toastie, when you have a heart-stopping moment:
Brown sauce or Tomato sauce?
Its 10AM on a Sunday morning. Its sunny, but pleasantly cold outside, the kind of cold you have to walk into the garden to appreciate. The kind of day where you enjoy watching your breath in the cold air.
You walk inside, check the bacon under the grille, take a sip from your boiling hot mug of Yorkshire Tea, and keep an eye on the toast. You pick up the knife, butter in the other hand, waiting for the toast to finish.
It pops up, you liberally spread the yellow goodness all over, and grab the bacon. Chuck the bacon onto the toast, and you're just about to pop the toast 'lid' on your bacon toastie, when you have a heart-stopping moment:
Brown sauce or Tomato sauce?