Thursday, September 21, 2006

Go Boil your Cabbage



What planet do these Television morons inhabit? I am really hacked off with switching on the box and frantically channel hopping, just to avoid one of those sodding TV Cookery programmes.

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Not only are there more of the bloody things, but they have got worse. Confronted by some silly bint called ‘Jilly’ who runs around like a hysterical chicken, I knew my blood pressure was shooting off the scale. ‘Silly Jilly’ did I hear you say, bloody right.

Silly Jilly seems to think that it's necessary to scuttle from pot to pot, screeching as she goes, things like ‘Oh well done!’ and ‘I say, isn’t that fabulous!”
(
These remarks are for the benefit of two 'Celebrity' assistants, who smile inanely every time the camera swivels in their direction)


Let me just add, she has a voice like a corncrake, and you get the picture. For Christ’s sake, it’s not rocket science to put foodstuffs in a pot, and friggin’ cook ‘em. Is it?

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Of course, we had to be socked with one of the ‘Celebrity’s’ giving us his earnest opinion on how ‘Life-changing’ all this had been, and ‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, I have learnt such a lot’. All delivered in one of those extra low voices, that indicate profound emotional bullshit.


If Mr Celebrity has learnt how to be a complete prat, then I’m very happy for him.

Today was no better.

Thinking I might check the news, I got blasted with yet another TV Cook slot. Bloody hell, three guys sitting in a studio discussing the ‘motivation’ of their ‘cooks’ who were trying to prove who should win the competition.

It seems that ‘Roland’ was a hot contender, as he had….wait for it kiddies, as our Roland had ‘Grown so much in his personal development’.
Perhaps we should engage in meaningful interaction with the boiled cabbage, or something.

I vote for the carving knife, myself.


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Only one judge even mentioned the food, and wanted the best cook, to win. Isn’t that surprising? Of course she didn’t win, far too normal, was our Helen.

She said sadly ‘I thought my food, looked like food.’
Quite so.

All the judges were men. Bunch of farts.
Yep.

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Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Jim the Viking



On the way back from Bally Scotland, I wandered into ‘Asgard Crafts’ and had the good fortune to meet ‘Jim the Viking’. Well, his name is Jim, and he sells Viking things. Obvious, in’it? And here he is.

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He proved to be knowledgeable and enthusiastic about the warriors and their lifestyle. Great stuff. We had an entertaining chat with the Viking, before the Pirate started to ‘harumphh’ about having to drive a few hundred miles back home. (If you think, I meet some interesting people, you are so right.)

A ‘young’ business, the shop is full of some lovely things…..

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And the shields are really spectacular….

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Very impressed by his commitment to making the products for real, and even more impressed by the way Jim researched the production of Viking combs.
He makes them out of bone, like this one, found in York…

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Time to go, miles to cover so it was goodbye to the Viking- but not before buying a pendant. Of a Valkyrie. A shield maiden, you know.
Quite so.

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Asgard Crafts
The Smithy Heritage Centre
Strathcarron
Wester Ross
IV54 8YS


www.asgardcrafts.co.uk

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Monday, September 04, 2006

Don't Wear Your Shorts



I came back from bonny Scotland all right- but not alone. I swear that some of those blasted midges came over the border with me.
Snuck their evil little selves onto my person, and enjoyed a good chew. Evil buggers.
Forget about admiring the scenery, just run for the bar.

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No wonder, all the locals go around, muffled head to toe. I soon found out why I never saw anyone outside the pub. The midges, always on the lookout for some juicy flesh, descended in a swarm on any idiot who took a moment to admire the sunset.

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Do what the locals do. Hug the bar, and look out the window.

Of course, my researches have uncovered the origin of the Highland fling – the midges. Lets face it, the poor wee Scots had to do something.

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For some reason, the pesky critters took a liking to the Pirate. Yum, yum, cordon bleu time. Sure thing, they eat anyone, but what a Scotty midge likes best, is ‘Pirate’.

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The rotten sods even bit him up the nose – well, I can think of worse places.
A warning to all you blokes, ‘Don’t wear your shorts.’

Sun shining…? Heed my warning.
I’m sure you get the picture.

A final kindly word from your Aunt Fred. Don’t despair, I found the answer for you. This is ‘The first line of defence.’

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I kid you not.

This contraption is available from ‘Any good retailer’.
Yep.

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