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I was about to pop a case of cloudy cider into my trolley this evening. I thought I'd treat myself for Crimbo. I then remembered the weight adding properties of the stuff, and that any added belly fat would mean that my winter Russian loadout would be too tight. Can't decide whether I should be proud of the self control, or saddened by the reach of my obsession with running about with toy pews at my bloody age... Enjoying an isotonic sports scotch in consolation.