There's a similar shot somewhere of me gooning over a plate of snails and I have to admit this greyish-brown sludge is infinitely preferable, especially given my Scottish roots.
Not that my porridge today is anything like what my dad made it, but that's another story.
Just one more thing as I get back into this self-portrait palaver, that this isn't quite the snap-happy selfie craze you might think it is. Oh no.
In fact, I started recording my imminent demise quite a few years ago, and well before the word 'selfie' was even invented. Yes, I'm that old.
So this was always intended as both an artistic project (trying to make every shot artistically unique) and as some sort of future memorial to the bunch of brain cells and bacteria that make (or made, as the case may be as you read these words) the human boing known as Sabbath Willuth, or pixeldust to that effect. It's fun!