braised steak ready meal (oh dear)

POOR old Roberts. Our chief rugby writer, faced with the prospect of being hoiked kicking and screaming into the computer age, has been feeling all nostalgic of late. Well, that's the only reason I can think of for his actions in the early hours of Sunday morning.
Fearing the inevitability that this wonderful life of Wales on Sunday will be replaced by the monolithic monstrosity that is meeja wales, Roberts has obviously been delving through his loft and bringing down all his cuttings, souvenirs from WoS christmas do's and the like, so that he can reminisce about the good old days when he bestrode the Welsh rugby world like a collosus with a laptop.
Now who knows what fate awaits him or, indeed, the rest of us?
Anyway back to Sunday morning and at 12.55am, as I prepared to stumble home from the Evans shindig, my phone bleeped at me in the way it generally does when I have received a vital message from the outside world.
Staring blurrily at the screen I noted that the message was from Roberts and wondered what had kept the rugger bugger awake until this ungodly hour after a hard Saturday night's work.
"It's been an honour and a privilege working with you," it read - or some such thing. And, of course, that scared the living daylights out of me. Had I been sacked? Were the rumours spreading through Thomson Towers even as I took a rare Saturday off? You know, while the cat's away...
It was only when I met up with some of my fellow WoS-ites before the Stereos gig on Tuesday that the full story came about. The Prince admitted, "Yeh, I had a strange text, too, telling me what a great bloke I was."
And Smashy revealed the morose one had told him he had done "an excellent job" that Saturday.
Even Shutts didn't miss out on his share of the glory, having some rambling message about the "pleasure of working with you". Now, anyone who knows Shutts would immediately smell a rat.
Then Shutts revealed the full story - and all became crystal. "Apparently Roberts opened a bottle of JD on Saturday night, then set about emptying it. When he got near the bottom he felt he should share his feelings with everyone."
We're a close-knit group, us WoS-ites. There will definitely be the mother of all parties soon - and all ex members of this exclusive club will be invited.
They may take our newspaper, but they won't crush our spirit!

Last night I broke all my rules and settled down to watch England's abject defeat to Croatia at Wembley with a, wait for it, ready meal. Five minutes in the microwave and I had braised steak, carrots, mash and onion gravy. Unfortunately I was still hungry afterwards and indulged in half a bag of the peanuts left over from the secret food frenzy Wren and I had enjoyed at the flicks.
It won't happen again, honest.