Rusty

I think I've seized up; I need an oil change.

Lolled around watching telly last night, not that there was anything really worth the effort of viewing. I then made a soup. Having thrown away the parsnips and broccoli, none of which had appreciated the extended period of storage in the fridge, I was left with cabbage and onions. On their own, not tasty enough to make a decent soup, but with a can of tomatoes added, not so bad.

The trick is to blend the crap out of it all, add some pearl barley, garlic and Worcester Sauce and then simmer on the hob until it stops screaming. Then add as much stilton as you safely can. Stir it all in and let it melt. Voila. Oddly orange soup. Tasted all right, mind, especially with home made croutons (toast) and a cup of coffee.

This was consumed while watching some drivel on Channel 5 about the 50 best World Cup goals of all time. It passed the time while the soup cooled.

Afterwards I made my way to The Tower to listen to a little music. I thought I'd lounge and digest for a while, and then natter to My Girl^TM on MSN. Except that it was suddenly 3am and I was still dressed and slumped over the bed (upside down). It was at this point that I discovered that oddly orange soup makes you rusty. I don't think that I'd moved for near on 4 hours...

And so to bed. Only to wake at 6.30, and doze off again until the 7.30 alarm. All my joints need a shot of WD-40.

And I seem to have developed another cold, or maybe hay fever. I dunno. Maybe I'll lay off the oddly orange soup in future.

But it was rather tasty, and there's quite a bit left...

Rusty

I think I've seized up; I need an oil change.

Lolled around watching telly last night, not that there was anything really worth the effort of viewing. I then made a soup. Having thrown away the parsnips and broccoli, none of which had appreciated the extended period of storage in the fridge, I was left with cabbage and onions. On their own, not tasty enough to make a decent soup, but with a can of tomatoes added, not so bad.

The trick is to blend the crap out of it all, add some pearl barley, garlic and Worcester Sauce and then simmer on the hob until it stops screaming. Then add as much stilton as you safely can. Stir it all in and let it melt. Voila. Oddly orange soup. Tasted all right, mind, especially with home made croutons (toast) and a cup of coffee.

This was consumed while watching some drivel on Channel 5 about the 50 best World Cup goals of all time. It passed the time while the soup cooled.

Afterwards I made my way to The Tower to listen to a little music. I thought I'd lounge and digest for a while, and then natter to My Girl^TM on MSN. Except that it was suddenly 3am and I was still dressed and slumped over the bed (upside down). It was at this point that I discovered that oddly orange soup makes you rusty. I don't think that I'd moved for near on 4 hours...

And so to bed. Only to wake at 6.30, and doze off again until the 7.30 alarm. All my joints need a shot of WD-40.

And I seem to have developed another cold, or maybe hay fever. I dunno. Maybe I'll lay off the oddly orange soup in future.

But it was rather tasty, and there's quite a bit left...

For the record

Vegetables are crunchy, green squeaky things that stick in your teeth and taste like poo.

Eating them pureed and boiled to death with lots of other flavours thrown in top is the only feasible way to consume them.

Except broccoli. Broccoli is the best vegetable on the planet and it has an IQ of 10, which is pretty good if you are a vegetable. Peas are nice, too. But they are stupid.

Don't get me started on the intellectual level of spuds; they ain't called 'humble' for nothing.

For the record

Vegetables are crunchy, green squeaky things that stick in your teeth and taste like poo.

Eating them pureed and boiled to death with lots of other flavours thrown in top is the only feasible way to consume them.

Except broccoli. Broccoli is the best vegetable on the planet and it has an IQ of 10, which is pretty good if you are a vegetable. Peas are nice, too. But they are stupid.

Don't get me started on the intellectual level of spuds; they ain't called 'humble' for nothing.

Birthdaze

Happy birthday to westernind.

*Clears throat*

Happy birthday to you,
Squashed tomatoes and stew,
Bread and Butter
In the Gutter,
Happy birthday to yoooooooooooooo....

*coughcoughcough*

Birthdaze

Happy birthday to westernind.

*Clears throat*

Happy birthday to you,
Squashed tomatoes and stew,
Bread and Butter
In the Gutter,
Happy birthday to yoooooooooooooo....

*coughcoughcough*