Fortnum's Special Bud Oolong. I discovered I had an almost-unused tin lurking in the cupboard, so out with the Pyrex teapot, yum. It's not in the peak of condition, but it's still utterly drinkable.
And now a rant. I make no apologies for the fact that I'm 43. Nor do I apologise for the fact that I've been out, first as gay, then as bi, since I was 14. Simple arithmetic leads ineluctably to the conclusion that I've been out for over 25 years; that's just a consequence of the calendar. I'm also the kind of stroppy bastard who gets involved in activism of one sort or another, and so I've been involved in queer activism and political activity for much of that time. These are facts, verifiable by anyone who cares to.
Some nice person, almost necessarily an LJ reader, just sent me some ranty vitriol because I had the temerity to mention these facts. I don't think they make me good, or wise, or really anything except someone who's been about quite a while and done a reasonable amount of thinking and heard quite a lot of the arguments. I didn't say that the opinions of anyone younger than I am were useless, that young people are necessarily ill-informed, or anything like that, which is what my accuser seems to think I did.
And yes, dear correspondent, I'm probably not half so pretty as you, or get a tenth as much sex, and yes, I almost certainly will, as you eloquently expressed your desire, "die horibly while [you're] still beatiful" - but, do you know, I couldn't give a flying fuck. Life's too damn short to be worrying about what you think, and I resent my being foolish enough to have wasted ten minutes seething about you.