You’re grilling, and you call over to him:
[Afterworder] ‘Hey Bob…halloumi?’
[RdN] ‘Halloumi? Halloumi? [pulls classic RdN face, turns up palms, looks around at everybody else]. ‘HallouMI? HALLOUMI???? Excuse me, hallouMIII???? I’m SAAHHRY, what? Do I LOOK like I…??? “HallouMI???” Whadthafug…hallouYOU you muthafucka, yeeeeeaaah hallouYOU!!!! Cocksucka!!!’
I’m assuming we’re all on the same page here? We all love pies, right? So, we’re all having pies this evening? Wait, what, you didn’t know it was British Pie Week?? *sob* After all these years together… sometimes I… I… feel that I don’t know you at all.
You do know that, if you don’t have pies at least ONCE this week then it will go on your Afterword permanent record, and Moosie will put a mark against your name in his Big Sinister Spreadsheet, and your vote won’t count in the 2nd Brexit Referendum.
Chez Our House, we’ve taken the precaution of having pies from the ridiculously-delicious-and-incredibly-cheap Aldi Something Special range: me, the Steak & Merlot, and TheLovelyJulie a Chicken, White Wine and Pancetta.
I’ve just watched this, live; the speeches begin at 11 mins in.
I know I’m not saying anything novel or insightful here but the depth of Trump’s ignorance, the sheer gargantuan scale of his bovine simplistic dimness, are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. His responses in the Q&A are beyond belief. He is the Type-specimen for Dunning-Kruger.
How long can he last?
Hard lines Team GB, but the Fijians were just from another planet – how can men that big and that strong be so fast and so nimble? Just amazing.
The British squad are obviously no mugs but Fiji just absolutely played them off the park, tactically as well as physically – their defence in particular (on the few occasions on which they’d lost possession) was outstanding. Looked like a real Men vs Boys affair. Congratulations to Ben Ryan, a great achievement.
‘DON’T SKID ON A KID!!’
Stay classy, Reading.
I’ve been asked whether I’d be interested in writing a book. It’d be a very small, very local affair but I thought that, nevertheless, it’d be helpful to ask for a bit of basic advice from the several writers and publishers on here.
Couple of years or so ago I was at a local Arts fair and fell into conversation with a woman from a local independent publishing house. I said I liked the sort of stuff they do, and she asked whether I had any suggestions for anything else they could do. As it happened, I did have an idea, and so gave her a 1-sentence elevator-pitch and then suggested a title. She made a note, took my details, and asked whether I’d like to write that book. “Nah” I laughed, and wandered off to talk to someone else. I never gave it another thought. Until yesterday.
So yesterday, The Lovely Julie and I were in a cafe in town, up on the first floor, and she looked out of the window and made a comment about what she could see from up there. And I said “Y’know, I once told somebody that I thought there could » Continue Reading.
The new series of Alan Partridge’s Mid Morning Matters has just begun on Sky Atlantic. Highly recommended – I averaged a big laugh every 30 seconds.
That’s Valentine’s Day sorted then. Get in!
Doing anything nice?
I’m trying to establish whether I need to use lime or cement mortar to re-point my 1897-built walls.
Fortunately, the main thing I need to tackle is a single-skin garden wall rather than the house itself. The mortar is really badly weathered and needs to be re-pointed. I was going to cross my fingers and hope that it gets through this Winter and then do it in the Spring. However, my neighbour’s told me that a section of it (that I can’t see, because it’s inaccessible from my side) is close to collapse, and that she’d like us to get someone in (it’s a party wall) before the weather takes it down altogether. Apparently she’s had a quote from people who’re about to do some other work for her. Trouble is, she is absolutely appalling at commissioning work because she’s well-off, scatty-posh, indecisive and unassertive; she’s just had some kitchen re-modelling work done which took, I kid you not, 3 MONTHS! And our houses are just standard-size 3B Victorian semis. God knows what it ended up costing her.
Anyway, matey-boy from ISawYouComing & Sons (Builders) has quoted her…wait for it…”…£5-10,000″ to put in new footings and re-build a » Continue Reading.
Corbyn: what an utter, utter clown.
Three days it took him.
Not only was this the New Longest Suicide Note In History but commentary on it was live-streamed around the world 24/7. What a total incompetent, he hasn’t a clue about leadership. He couldn’t run a bath.
Here’s GP and the Rumour to help lift (y)our spirits.
We must surely have done this before and no doubt my starting suggestions contain some evergreens. In my defence, I cite poor short-term memory and a total disinclination to search the site.
I was going to suggest Art which would uplift and inspire the CCs, but then thought this would be dull, worthy, and lacking that all-important punular potential. So I’ve opted for the time-proven motivators of Mockery, Shame, and Guilt.
Of course, this is all meant in a loving and supportive way. *insert earnest and sincere SJW emoji*
So here goes:
– There Is A Fridgelight That Never Goes Out – Hey Lard, Don’t Ask Me Questions – Porklife – Bingo Wings Of A Dove – Angel Delight Eyes – The Waist Band (ooh bidda poetry, very classy) – Shallow Gravy
I did the Xmas food shopping yesterday and bought two puddings, one for Xmas day (obvs) and one a “break glass in case of emergency” affair in case I need more. Not “…in case of unexpected visitors” more, just…more.
But here I am, late evening 22 December and I’m about to crack – I’m going to start on the stand-by pud. You can’t NOT though, can you, when you know it’s there in the fridge being all fruity and spicy and sticky and nutty and delicious and chanting “EAT ME EAT ME EAT ME”? (This last bit might just be inside my head.)
So what are you looking forward to consuming gratifyingly unhealthy amounts of this Christmas?
I’m really sorry.
I think you were pipped in the swimwear round.
I know, I know, you must be heartbroken. But if I could just…have the crown back…? Moose? Please? The crown? Moose, give me the cr- yes, keep the flowers, just give me the crown. Give. Me. That. *nnngghh* CROWN!