Monday could be just described as the same as Sunday. We had a good tidy up of the house, which now looks less like a bomb has dropped, still well lived in but much smarter. Waste of time really as we are definite that no-one is going to call.
Part of the day was spent deciding if it appropriate to forward on the material that pops onto our phones I have one friend who manages to have a catalogue that ranges from material found on the “Dark Webb’ to classic children’s footage – with a twist. I was particularly glad I checked the Snow White and The Seven Dwarf clip. I won’t go into detail but be assured I now know why Snow White has a permanently flushed expression and Happy is happy.
I cooked tea whilst listening to The Monday Night Club on Radio 5 Live. It is one of my favourite listening times but it seemed somehow weird listening to football folk talking about the stuff that wasn’t happening – They kept me amused though.
Master Chef popped onto the Tele at nine pm. We watched the contestants endeavour to cook a “Lovely Plate Of Food” in ninety minutes. Seemed to me if I had done a couple of slices of
Mothers Pride and a scoop of Heinz baked beans I would have slipped through to the next round – provided I had laddled half a pound of Anchor butter onto the toast and seasoned the plate, everyone leaving seemed to have forgotten the two basics.
In short the contestants that got kicked off seemed to have had personality bypasses or had “Bucket of frogs” faces.
The ‘Lucky” remainder were then bussed off to some ponsy London restaurant I have never been to one of these places as I fear having to cough up some serious dosh and be hunting for a chippy on the way home
The chef was a little arsey man who was hyper critical. One woman had the unenviable job of having to juggle egg yokes in her bare hands and then trying to slip them onto a dollop of something white. I couldn’t help thinking it didn’t look particularly hygienic. Whilst this lady looked well scrubbed I did wonder about the other sweaty chefs who may have just relieved an irritating buttock itch.
This particular lady then had to de-bone chicken feet – why is that fine dining, get real they are chicken feet.
Forget using fish slices and spoons in your kitchen This unfortunate band were forced to use tweezers and other makeup implements to dish up the food.
Anyway we are off to Tesco today to gather supplies for us and a few others. Not being natural shoppers I suspect that this is going to be anything other than natural. Will let you know what happens.
Take care Ian Clare and The furries