God's grease

I called Sam the driver in the morning and he was snared in traffic. 'Even though I am close Mr Rob Harris, I am not there yet.' Right, thanks for the formality Sam.

I caught Mrs Weah hollering out of the office back door at one of the compound groundsmen, who had told her he was going to spend his wages on liquor. 'Livers are not easily purchased!'

'See you Monday by God's grace', Mrs Weah said as she bid me goodbye for the weekend.

I started salivating over a picture of Helen and Louise eating pizza during a meet-up in Copenhagen, so I rooted some out here. I was distracted as it was served, dropped my phone and got it covered in melted cheese grease and tomato sauce.