Alert the candle-lick constabulary, you banjexed flatterties.

Welcome to the Blind By podcast.

If this is your first time, consider going back to an earlier episode to familiarize yourself

with the Lord of this podcast. I had a little moment of

synchronicity this week. And when I say synchronicity, I don't refer to something that's

supernatural, but rather a little coincidence that I take

personal meaning from. I was eating a digestive biscuit. I don't often eat digestive biscuits. I don't often eat digestive biscuits. I don't seek them out. I don't buy them.

But if I come across a digestive biscuit, I will most definitely partake in it. It's a very simple inoffensive

biscuit. There's a satisfying snap when you bite down on a digestive

biscuit. Not too much resistance, like a rich tea, but not so crumbly

that it's a short cake.

It's the perfect balance between hard and crumbly.

Digestives also, they're not very sweet.

They're not as sweet as other biscuits.

You wouldn't class them as a confectionery. A digestive

biscuit isn't going to spoil your dinner for being too sweet. There's a

rumour of sweetness in there, like the smell of golden syrup, and just when you search

for the sweetness, that faint sweetness within a digestive biscuit, you're met with a salty barrier, like a ballcock of salt, not too salty,

but like about as salty as human skin, like when you lick your own arm on a summer's day.

That's how salty a digestive biscuit is. So I was in a hotel room. I was in a shit hotel room in Ros common because

I'm filming a documentary for TV which I can't get into. But I'm traveling all this month and

staying in little weird hotels the type of

...