hipsters at an English breakfast

nice pub.  their own beer.  food, not bad.  “English Breakfast” on the menu.  “With ham”, it says.  And beans.  Proper shocking English high-cholesterol breakfast like you’d serve the yankee tourists.

Except it was 3 slices of bacon.  And some sort of dark colored mildly gelatenous substance that might have been some sort of hash.  If you squint and rub some playa dust on your face you could  sort of imagine some pub out in the countryside cooking up the rabbits the locals had caught in the forest that day you’d sorta get this substance.  To those at the table it looked a little sketch.

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