Kippers and Marmalade on Toast

There's a hole in my roof. I had to wait for a roofer to come and have a look at it. I took the opportunity to have one of my favourite breakfasts: kippers.

Well one kipper to be exact. Normally I would eat my kipper with a slice of brown bread, but I was short of brown bread today so I had white bread toasted and covered in marmalade. There's a cliche about marmalade and kipper but I've forgotten exactly what it is.

There's a very Scandinavian fishermen feel to any smoked fish for breakfast. It's the kind of breakfast a giant blond named Lars or Magnus with a rugged face would sit down to beside his uncannily beautiful and well behaved, eugenically selected children. In the meantime Freya his wife, who once starred in an insanely boring pornographic movie, smokes up another batch in her Nordic woolen wear.

My girlfriend doesn't like kippers and possibly doesn't like the fact that I like kippers. They are quite strong owing to their smoked and oily nature (smoked herring). I've been told that my skin smells of kippers after eating too many of them, but I suspect it's either my breath, or the entire house that smells. Neither of which are really all that desirable when you think about it. I don't care. I'll be dining on my trawler with my fishermen friends all the day bobbing along on the ocean waves, happy as a seal.