Ead Mosst be Blodd. Hoh hoh hoh...

There's nothing like cooking to get the blood flowing.

Literally.

I have never really appreciated the anaesthetic properties of hot water before, but from tonight I am aware of them in fine focus.

You see, having washed up in water as hot as I could stand it without dancing the watusi and chanting ancient Egyptian death spells, I decided to do things to a cabbage with a very sharp knife over a pan of boiling water.

Now, add to this the fact that Macy Grey is on the radio and I am having a fine old tuneless sing-a-long safe in the knowledge that the Polish contingent are out sampling the wares of the fine hostelries hereabouts, then disaster was bound to happen.

Anyway, part way through murdering said brassica (sp), it occurred to me that veggies don't bleed. You will understand my confusion, therefore, upon discovering not insignificant quantities of blood issuing from the damn thing. My first thought, of course, was to check the walls. I have always had a fevered imagination and the sudden and unexpected appearance of corpuscles liberé brought forth thoughts of Amityville.

Sadly , no.

Further inspection revealed a rather challenging slice on the top of my left index finger which I swear winked at me.

This mean that my soup for tomorrow is no longer vegetarian in the strictest sense.

I think I shall faint n

Ead Mosst be Blodd. Hoh hoh hoh...

There's nothing like cooking to get the blood flowing.

Literally.

I have never really appreciated the anaesthetic properties of hot water before, but from tonight I am aware of them in fine focus.

You see, having washed up in water as hot as I could stand it without dancing the watusi and chanting ancient Egyptian death spells, I decided to do things to a cabbage with a very sharp knife over a pan of boiling water.

Now, add to this the fact that Macy Grey is on the radio and I am having a fine old tuneless sing-a-long safe in the knowledge that the Polish contingent are out sampling the wares of the fine hostelries hereabouts, then disaster was bound to happen.

Anyway, part way through murdering said brassica (sp), it occurred to me that veggies don't bleed. You will understand my confusion, therefore, upon discovering not insignificant quantities of blood issuing from the damn thing. My first thought, of course, was to check the walls. I have always had a fevered imagination and the sudden and unexpected appearance of corpuscles liberé brought forth thoughts of Amityville.

Sadly , no.

Further inspection revealed a rather challenging slice on the top of my left index finger which I swear winked at me.

This mean that my soup for tomorrow is no longer vegetarian in the strictest sense.

I think I shall faint n