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19/11/08 : You couldn't make it up!

I think I'm too late to enter the image challenge but I thought I'd have a go at it anyway, so here is my Daily Mail front cover.

I think I've covered everything! I couldn't find the right font for the headline, but I don't think it's too bad for my first attempt at this sort of thing (I'm not exactly a Photoshop expert).

16/11/08 : Tagliatelle with pancetta, leek and mushrooms

Sorry, two recipes in a row . . . this was an improvisation that worked well so I thought I'd post it before I forgot it. All measurements approximate.

olive oil
100g pancetta or smoked streaky bacon, diced
a large leek, shredded
handful of mushrooms, sliced
1-2 cloves garlic, crushed
tbsp brandy
level tbsp flour
200ml veg stock
100ml double cream
chopped fresh parsley
plenty freshly ground black pepper

Basically, cook everything in the order above. Put a pan over a medium heat, add a good glug of oil and fry the bacon until starting to brown. Add the leek and cook for a few minutes until softened, then the mushrooms for a couple of minutes, then the garlic, then the brandy. Add the flour and gradually stir in the stock. Bring to the boil then add the cream, parsley and pepper and turn the heat down. Let it simmer gently whilst you cook the tagliatelle. When the pasta is almost done, drain and add to the sauce. Mix everything thoroughly whilst the pasta finishes cooking.

11/11/08 : Slow cooked chilli

My 'ickle sis asked for this, which is basically Sarah's version of an Anglicised version of an Americanised version of a Mexican dish. Or something like that. It's nice though, and I haven't posted a recipe for ages so here goes.

You will need:

Frying pan
Slow cooker or casserole dish

500g minced beef
an onion, chopped
couple cloves garlic, crushed
a green pepper, de-seeded and chopped small
400g chopped tomatoes (standard tin)
200g cooked kidney beans (small tin)
200ml beef stock (an oxo cube is fine)
a rounded tbsp hot chilli powder
a level tsp cumin
a level tsp paprika
a good grinding black pepper

Put the frying pan over a med-high heat and cook the beef for a few minutes until thoroughly browned. Push to the side of the pan so you can spoon off the excess fat then tip the beef into the casserole dish / slow cooker pot along with the green pepper, black pepper and kidney beans (rinsed and drained).

Put the pan back onto the heat (turn down a little) and fry the onion until soft. Add the garlic and after a few minutes all the spices. NOTE: for more or less heat, adjust the amount of the chilli powder, not the other spices.

Fry the spices for a short while before adding the stock and tomatoes. NOTE: if using a slow cooker, you need less liquid so concentrate the stock slightly (if using a cube, add only half the amount of water).

Chuck it all in the pot and mix thoroughly. It'll take about six hours on the higher setting of a slow cooker, or (I'd guess) a couple of hours in the oven on a low temperature (about 150°, gas mark 2).

Serve with rice - makes enough for 4 peeps (you can freeze any that's leftover).

30/10/08 : Outrage! Fury!

From this BBC News article: "For a programme that prompted just two complaints when it was broadcast, Russell Brand's Radio 2 Show has caused a remarkable furore".

So . . . two broadcasters took a joke too far, a couple of people complained, the broadcasters apologised and the man involved accepted the apology and wants to move on (the grand-daughter can hardly complain, having made a wadge of cash by selling "her story" to The Sun).

And this is the most important thing that has happened in the world over the past few days?

I find Brand occasionally funny, mostly irritating. I find Ross generally entertaining - and he can do more serious stuff too. But why such outrage over a bad taste childish prank? I'd guess it's nothing more than the fact that they both work for the BBC; the organisation that YOU PAY FOR that is being run by commies hoping to promote their left-wing agenda. Well, that's what the Mail/Sun/Express seem to think, and they'll use any excuse to stir up some faux outrage to make their point.

The thing that bothers me the most though is the complainers. Two complaints following the broadcast, 30000 and rising now? Who are these people? Presumably most of them didn't actually hear the radio show, so I can only assume that they are sad, pathetic individuals with empty lives, believing what they read in lesser quality media sources and complaining because it makes them feel important.

UPDATE : This might be one reason The Sun don't like Brand. It's funny because it's true ...

via Bloggerheads.

UPDATE 2 : I just read a transcript of the answerphone messages that caused the "public fury" - here. I'm sorry ... I couldn't help finding it funny ... I guess I'm just a warped individual ...

UPDATE 3 : I couldn't resist adding the best line I've heard so far on the subject, from Tygerland:

"The BBC, as always, has been forced to pull down its trousers and bend over, while the collective tabloid media buggers it silly with its enormous cock of hypocrisy".

15/09/08 : Jesus is his friend

This has been posted on a few blogs recently, but I couldn't resist the urge to add it here too. It made me nearly piss myself laughing. Actually, I was still laughing about it the next day.

I always thought that Christian rock was rather an oxymoron, but Christian, I don't know, Ska? It's just embarrassing (presuming it's genuine that is).

BTW, Jesus is NOT my friend. Especially if he's going to try to "touch me down inside".

25/08/08 : Going away - and having to come back

Sarah says that, however much she's enjoyed a holiday, it's a nice feeling to get home at the end. I, however, would prefer to stay on holiday instead of returning to chores and the horror of having to get up in the morning for work and stuff.

To make things worse, we returned to rather crappy weather, making it feel like summer is over and it'll soon be time to go back to school (I left school in 1989 but that feeling never quite goes away).

It's also one of those things where Old Father Time is a complete git. The family (parents, siblings, associated spouses and offspring) decided it would be nice to go back to Jersey (we first went in 2001) about two years ago. Much planning and waiting followed, then we go and a week later we're back home and it's all over.

Still, it was a nice break. Sarah has some pics and stuff here, I might post some myself later.

16/06/2008 : Vagabond Kiss

I came across an old photo album whilst sorting out a cupboard recently. Behold: Vagabond Kiss in early 1996.

(click for bigger)

People still occasionally get to my sites by googling Vagabond Kiss, which always surprises me as we only had local success, split up shortly after the above photo was taken and weren't actually that good.

I'm in the middle, to the left is Johnny (one of three bass players we got through) and to the right is Andy (one of about ten drummers). Gav, now my brother-in-law is at the back and at the front is Jim, the lead singer.

Looking back I think we were actually better when we started out a couple of years earlier. We still had the big choruses but a more unique sound - big chunky guitar chords, tinkley piano, funky bass (from a guy called Luke, not pictured below for some reason I can't remember) and ultra-tight drumming from Jim, who sang lead vocals from behind the drum kit. I can understand why he wanted to get another drummer and be at the front, but none of the other drummers we had were a patch on him.

It was Jim that led us towards the more "80's hair rock" sound we had when photographed above. He was a weird guy really, the sort of person who would be your bestest mate until you disagreed with him over something, which he would take personally as if you have done whatever it was just to piss him off. Totally self-centred and misanthropic (I seem to attract such people) but a pretty good singer and songwriter, and the best rock drummer I've known.

(click for bigger)

UPDATE : Just googled the band myself and found out that some of the former members have "reformed" the band with a female lead singer . . . I wonder if they're doing the same kind of stuff as before or whether they just couldn't be bothered to think of a new name? Seems a bit odd to me.

01/05/08 : Humph

I shall miss Humphrey Lyttelton, who died last Friday. Not for his skills as a jazz trumpeter, but because a well spoken slightly curmudgeonly old man can make a double-entendre sound so brilliantly filthy - and get away with it.

To be read aloud:

"Samantha is a croupier and often works at an exclusive Soho club where gamblers pay top money to play roulette all day and poker all night".

Samantha was the silent (i.e. non existent) scorer on I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue.

It sounds best from the man himself of course, so here are a couple of examples (the second one being the best).

16/01/08 : On nearly being bummed

I said in an earlier post that my "nearly being buggered in the woods" story deserved a post of its own - and here it is, with a bonus story - for there have been two occasions when I have come close to being an unwilling participant in hot man-on-man action.

The first time was at a cottage (public toilet building resembling a small abode in a rural area - see here for the sexual relevance) in Poole Park. Now, female readers may not be aware of this, but there are two unwritten laws of urinal etiquette.

Firstly, position. If there is no one else standing at the urinal (or "trough" as I used to call them) then one must position oneself at the far end. If another person enters and wishes to use the facilities, he must stand at the other end. If a third person enters, then unless the urinal is particularly wide, he must stand around awkwardly - pretending to adjust his clothing, combing his hair etc. - until a space at either end becomes vacant.

The second rule is simple. Under no circumstances do you look anywhere other than straight ahead.

Anyway, I had positioned myself correctly and was about to "go" when another person walked in and, after standing around for a while, walked over to the middle of the urinal. This immediately made me tense up - and I am sure that female readers will be aware that when one is tense, one cannot go. So, I'm standing there, tackle out, not actually doing what one is supposed to do whilst standing at a urinal with one's tackle out, with some guy dangerously close to me, presumably also tackle out but not actually doing what one is supposed to do in such circumstances.

Then, out the corner of my eye, I saw him edge closer. At this point, I realised that not only was I not going to be able to relieve myself but that it would probably be best to leave. I hurriedly zipped myself up (luckily not too hurriedly - otherwise the story could have ended rather more unpleasantly) and turned around to leave. The other guy was practically looming over me.

The second time was rather more sinister. It was a hot night in the middle of summer and I was at the Neptune bar by Boscombe pier. Me and my then pal Jim decided to leave to get some fags (incase any US readers get the wrong idea I should point out that "fags" is UK slang for cigarettes) from a local shop. We took the shortcut through Boscombe gardens, but instead of using the proper path, we cut through a trodden path through one of the wooded areas. As we were walking along I noticed that there was a man standing behind one of the trees, completely motionless. This seemed slightly odd, but we walked on - and then a little further down the path noticed another man stood behind a tree. At this point we began to think that something weird was going on - I found myself saying "misty up here, init?" just for something to say (it was actually misty). Then we noticed more of them - at least ten - all stood like statues behind trees. I remember hearing myself say "... misty up here init ..." out of nervousness. Our pace quickened and we soon caught up with a guy and a girl and asked them what was going on. The bloke simply said "They're gay".

It took a few seconds to work out what he meant. I remember thinking something along the lines of "So what? Why would that have anything to do with why they're all hiding in the woods as if waiting for . . . . . oh shit."

We ran like we had never ran before.

Still, we laughed about it (possibly with an element of hysteria) later.

UPDATE:  googling the words "urinal etiquette" led me to the urinal test . . .