Yes, I’m already getting desperate for content ideas and I’ve only missed two roast dinners. Thankfully, yesterday I had the kind of inspiration which normally only comes to me after a gram of ketamine.

I could review reader’s roasts.

But then I was like, would people really bother…or perhaps would people really dare? It isn’t like I have dared to put my own roast dinners up for critique…though it is a few years since I have made one. Don’t look at me like that – you know what I do on a Sunday. At least you know what I used to do on a Sunday. Every Sunday. Heartbroken.

Get over it, I hear you say. Yeah, I’m no closer to getting over losing my freedom of movement than I am to getting over losing my freedom of movement.

So here’s the deal, even though I used to vote Tory pre-Brexit and could even countenance the idea of a little more private provision of the NHS (oh my God I am so fucking evil that you might as well pre-convict me of mass murder), I am offering a prize of £25 to the charity of the winner’s choice.

Sure, some of you will bemoan it only being £25 – but I have no idea whether I will require charity by the end of the upcoming economic crisis and I do give to other charities too so stick your social justice up your arse. WANT A FIGHT? Yeah, I have had a beer. Just one. This is what happens when you barely drink for 3 months and have one. It was only a bottle too. Wanna to see my hairy nipples?

I should probably rescue this.

Rules & Requirements

So I need three things from you:

1. A photograph of the roast dinner. Please make the photograph half-decent quality. In other words, don’t use some ancient Nokia phone from 2005. If the photograph is really shit then I might not be able to use it. And you wouldn’t be able to win the kudos.

2. Something to publicly identity you by. Doesn’t need to be your real name, “Big Tits from Bognor”, “Queen Pea”, “Dave From Dudley Loves The NHS”, “Corbyn Is My PM” – whatever you fancy. You can use your real name though.

3. Some vague evidence that this is a roast dinner that you cooked during lockdown (or at least helped with) and not a photograph of a roast you were served at Blacklock last year.

You can enclose any other supporting information with it, maybe tell me what the mysterious piece of meat is, any unusual vegetables, why you chose a frozen Gregg’s vegan sausage roll instead of roast potatoes – or maybe that your wife was supposed to do it but had a big line of ketamine and couldn’t move so you had to use the cooker for the first time in your life. But this isn’t necessary.

Also feel free to use your creativity and sense of humour – if you have one. You put up with reading this shite, so you might have some form of humour that could come out. Maybe something that makes me laugh/cry will impress me more than your Blacklock impersonation…though maybe it won’t. I guess I’ll know the winner when I see it.

Send It!

Send your entry to, or send me a message on Twitter or send me a message on Facebook. Please don’t tweet me unless it is a reply to a tweet specifically about this competition, otherwise I’ll lose it. And fuck Instagram.

Entry closes when I have had at least 10 entries – that’ll give you two Sundays I guess. Unless I get swamped on the first Sunday.

If you are friend or family member, maybe enter anonymously because I probably won’t pick you as winner if I know you. It isn’t difficult to create a new Gmail account.

Winner will be announced by form of a blog post in the weeks to come. Losers will also be announced. Be afraid. Vegans are allowed to enter but have no chance of winning.

And stay the fuck away from me. Everyone – not just vegans.

At least you have a reason to stay in now this Sunday. I better get a thank you from the NHS for saving more lives.

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