Diet Redux (Again)

It's no secret that I am, in fact, a big lad. However, after the last diet failed to hold my attention - or, rather, chocolate was able to redirect my attention - I have once again started in earnest to try and drop a few pounds/stones/kilos/tons.

The trip to Devon was effectively one long "Last Supper" and now we're home, I am starting once again. While the Slimming World diet was good, I struggled to cook everything from scratch over and over, and some days, it was all I could do to stand in the kitchen, let alone prepare a meal for when Kellie came home from work.

So, to that end, I've started out on the Slim Fast diet. Now, I am sure some of you will try telling me it's not a good diet and all sorts of other stuff, but don't worry... It's easy/lazy, and a light meal in the evening is not something that strikes me as difficult to manage.

Assuming I don't get bored or rice, pasta or salad ;)

I am not expecting miracles to start with, but figure with perseverance and the scales crying underfoot, the weight will soon start to come off.

I am once again massive, and really need to do something about it... Still, if anyone wants to hand me a few thousand quid, I'll just have the flab surgically removed!

So far so good, I should add - the shakes are a lot nicer than they used to be (I did the same diet a few years back, and lost quite a bit of weight) plus the meal bars and snack bars are actually very yummy...

Fingers crossed!!

Dinner!

Last night, in a shock move, Kellie and myself did something social and went to a very old friends house for dinner!

Dave and I met waaaay back in the dim distant past at college, and have been friends ever since. For some reason, we drifted out of contact with one another about ten years ago, with nothing more than the occasional email or message-passed-on-from-a-mutual-friend here and there.

Then, thanks to the wonders of stalking Facebook, we found once another again, and chatted shit at random. Then we both ended up having the same messaging app on our phone, and take the piss on a regular basis. Despite all this chatting, we still hadn't met up after all this time, and after a bit of plotting and planning, we sorted this weekend to meet up, and for Dave to cook...

I should start by spoiling the ending and saying "It's OK, no one dies" but you never know what the next few days might bring. None the less, Dave made a chilli which smelt lovely when we arrived and we sat chatting about random stuff and taking the piss.

He's not grown up much either. Balder, but that's about it.

He admitted he had some issues with the chilli, but that was all good - I'll eat anything. Then he started to make the rice, and things went downhill from there... First, according to the packet instructions, he had added enough rice for "four people" but it was obvious that A) that was not enough for four adults, and B) there were five of us there for dinner. At my behest, he added more.

Approximately a tablespoons worth...

Once it was "cooked" and he started draining it, it was very obvious there wasn't enough to feed a starving hamster, let alone five adults. The portion sizes varied wildly from "a bit" to "a childs portion" Bless him, he ended up have precisely zero grains of rice with his dinner...

So, with the rice pudding splattered on the plate, the chilli was added and we all ate our dinner - Dave being the centre of attention. Or, rather, the target of the conversation/mocking.

This was mine - after he mopped up the "fluid" escaping from within

With dinner eaten - and large side-orders of mockery - Dave then turned to dessert which he had made with us in mind, knowing we are dieting. Slimming World Syn-Free Lemon Meringues. They were very nice, despite our near-constant mocking as well him admitting he failed to read the instructions properly, and added an extra third of required sweetener.

Bless.

Nom

After dinner was buried eaten, we sat and had a couple of drinks and laughs before the Buzz! game came out for the PS3. Considering there was five of us, Dave had the simple task of connecting two sets of Buzz controllers to his PS3.

Also, keep in mind Dave is much of a geek as me. Technical stuff is his bread & butter, as it were.

Set one of the controllers connected no problem. Set two, however. Nah. Didn't want to know. He was plugging and unplugging, blowing connectors, rebooting the PS3, swapping batteries, cursing, swearing - all while we were sat back offering helpful advice.

No, wait, taking the piss. All while we were sat back taking the piss.

The highlight of this moment was the view. All while we were sitting and waiting patiently, all we could see was this:

And if that image isn't clear enough for you, here is Daves builders backside a bit clearer for you:

My Eyes! My EYES!

Eventually, Karen decided that the four remaining "adults" could play and she would help. And by help, she tried distracting Dave as much as possible because he's a dirty cheater.

I've never played any of the Buzz! games, but you get a little controller to answer your questions with in a General Knowledge/Assorted Trivia sort of game. Somehow, I managed to lead both games all the way through, while Dave & Kellie stole points from one other and threw pies at each other.

On the game, I should add. There were no pies present at dinner.

However, both times - despite my leading - I lost all my points in the final round, leaving Dave the winner of both games.

Turns out he plays it all the time, and happens to know a lot of the questions. Smarmy git.

Then out came SingStar. I should point out now that, at no point in the history of ever, have I taken a mic and sang into it. Nu uh, no thanks. Dave & Karen played first, then Dave & Kellie, and then a mic was thrust at me.

And I seized up! Nu uh, no thanks! I just can't do it. I had to have Kellie back me up and point out that I don't sing without a mic, let alone in front of people!!

After that, he showed us a few games on his PS3 (as Kellie is itching to borrow some in the near-future!) and messed with the 3D TV he has, playing with the settings and just chatting about tech stuff.

Despite the mocking and piss-taking, we had a great night, and it was really great to catch up, as well as getting to meet Karen (who is lovely, by the way, and it's amazing that she contained her "Stab Dave In The Eye" rage all evening!).

Were this an episode of Come Dine With Me, I am sure Dave would have lost a few points, and even had his Bullet Proof Toilet Paper Guard mocked on national television!

Breakfast Racism

Way back in the dim distant past that will go down as "January 2012" I posed a question relating to breakfast meats. Why SHOULD the pig get all the fame and glory for breakfast? What makes the pig so special that his bacon, his sausages, his ham - why are THEY available at 6am, but a roast chicken is not?

Why can't I have beef covered in gravy while I read the morning papers?

Somehow - and, being that this is me, the King of the Wild Tangents - Twitter this morning was filled with the same conversation. Apart from one mentioning "Fried Burger Sandwiches" for breakfast, and another admitting they have chicken and fish, no one gave a valid excuse as to why we couldn't have a roast dinner at breakfast time.

I will put a side note in her for fans of The Fish. Yes, kippers and mackerel are OK breakfast dishes, but they are acceptable at breakfast times, just not popular.

So, being that I am bored, in pain and, MOSTLY because I am ABANDONED and UNATTENDED I decided I would find out WHY these foods are not acceptable at breakfast time.

Kellie is at her mums at the moment. Her mum is having her walls replastered, so Kellie is sitting there while mum is at work, which leaves me here. Alone. Bored. Bored AND Alone.

Never a good combination when you're me. So, I send Kellie a text, partly to ask permission, partly because it's going to happen regardless, but at least this way, she is "Part" of the decision making process. If it all goes wrong, she SAID I could.

Me:
I am not mad.
But.
Would you have any issues with me cooking a full roast dinner?
For breakfast?
In a couple of weeks?
Like I say, I am not mad.

Kellie:
Any particular reason, apart from your not being mad?

Me:
Well, being that I am NOT mad, it's in the name of science. Why can Pork control the breakfast table, and why CAN'T we have a roast lamb dinner for breakfast one Saturday morning?
It's all VERY scientific, thus making me not mad.

Kellie:
OK, on the continent they have a wide range of meats on their breakfast table, not just pork. Can you not draw from that?
Also, any reason why it has to be a full roast dinner, why not a lamb chop, black pudding, piece of steak and fried potatoes.....?

Me:
One, we are not on the continent. Plus they don't have full roast dinners for breakfast.
Two, ah, I went off on a tangent and decided an English Breakfast with a lamb chop was just boring, and why CAN'T you have rosemary roast spuds for breakfast too :D

Kellie:
Whatever you say darling. The one thing I feel you haven't considered is that if you want a full road for breakfast, you will have to start cooking at about 4am.... Xx

Me:
If I do all the prep work the night before, 6am start for a 10am breakfast!

Kellie:
OK, if it makes you happy darling, you go ahead..... I still think you're mental.... X

Me:
I am not mad!

Kellie:
I didn't say mad, I said mental.... X

Me:
I want to cook my family a meal, that's not mental, that's loving and considerate!

Because at this point I had her up against the ropes, she stopped talking to me. She clearly knew I was right. She was silent right up until she appeared on Twitter about ten minutes later:

Kellie Castleman @KellieCastleman
Will you lot stop putting ideas into @0dd1 head, he is impressionable and I now have a full roast dinner to look forward to for breakfast!!

I am slightly confused, as she tells them to stop, then says she's looking forward to it. Strange girl.

But I digress. I am now planning to do this, all in the name of SCIENCE and to see why it is not acceptable to have a roast dinner for breakfast. None of this pre-cooked-frozen-just-reheat milarky either. No no no, home made roast spuds and sausage meat stuffing balls, yorkshire puds, peas, sweetcorn and Brussels sprouts, and a slab of roast lamb, complete with Mint Sauce and Gravy.

I am also going to insist we eat in our Pyjamas. Or boxers and dressing gown is the case for some of us.

I will get everything ready the night before - spuds peeled and chopped and ready to go, veggies in pans, meat herbed and basted, so when I get up at six, I can get the meat on, then the spuds and stuffing, then all the veg, so hopefully it'll be ready for 10am. What I have FAILED to tell her, that a nice roast dinner breakfast will ALSO have a nice dessert. I am thinking Cheesecakes, or maybe a Gateaux... But we shall see.

Once and for all, I will find out WHY we can't have big roast meals at breakfast times. It's science, and it's proving things once and for all.

It also says another, unrelated statement: Never leave Dan on his own for any amount of time.

A MIGHTY Quest!

"Let's get KFC in for dinner tonight" Kellie suggested. Six words and three letters that will remain engrained in my brain for HOURS at least.

It's Saturday night, the kids have been in and out and doing their own thing, and it's not often we all sit down and have a junk food session. Additionally, the alternatives were "Something Quick And Easy" or "Something Leftover" which may sound dull, but the kids are quite happy to have leftover something they love.

"I'll pop to town and grab some -" I offer helpfully "- and I'll take Jaysen with me. We won't be long, stick the food in the oven for five minutes when we get back to get it hot again, no worries."

Confidence is clearly a bad omen.

So, at just after half five in the evening, Jaysen and myself head out into the chilly Basildonian air, and wander down to KFC in the town centre. It's a ten minute walk, fifteen tops. On route, Kellie asks if we can get some Red Bull so we can have some more Jagermeister. So once we hit town, we divert through to Asda, fight the crowds there, and head around to KFC.

The queue there was a teeeny bit silly - there were a good dozen or more people ahead of us. So we stand - as us British people do - patiently in line, shuffling forwards when we get a chance. Four people. Three. Two... Nearly twenty minutes, and there is now just one other person in front of us.

"The cooker is on the fritz" comes the voice from the counter. "There won't be any more chicken for at least 45 minutes."

Oh for pissing hells sake. I only want some sodding chicken and chips.

"The Pitsea store is open..." she-behind the counter offers. I clomp out. Pitsea is in the exact opposite direction to where we are, but now, NOW it's a case of wanting and needing this sodding chicken.

I call Kellie and let her know. Warn her we might be a little longer than anticipated. We then head around to the Bus stop where a few different buses head through Basildon and up to Pitsea. We wait. And wait. And wait. And wait some more.  Nearly half an hour passes... The first one comes along - proclaiming Pitsea Broadway as it's destination, and we jump on. No more waiting, I am DONE waiting.

Two return tickets cost a stupid amount of money, so for LESS money, we get day tickets. Now, granted, this is now clocking into Saturday evening, but as you will see, it's a good job we got them!

This bus - the #5 - goes through the town, up one of the main residential roads, then up through another residential area, across the top of Pitsea and to the Broadway where we want to be. Jaysen and myself are sitting chatting about how a little old lady confused him for a girl (again) when we stop.

And everyone gets off.

We're about half-way to where we want to be. I ask the driver what's occuring... Apparently, he should have changed his sign to "Felmores Shops" as his end point. But he forgot. After a certain time, the five no longer goes to Pitsea! But he FORGOT.

Our options are A) Get off and walk through a rather rough and ready area for half an hour to get to Pitsea, even though I am not entirely sure how to cut through the estate, or B) Go BACK to the town centre and try a different bus.

We go for option B. Stabbing is not on my To Do List for the evening.

And we sit and wait on the bus. And wait. And wait. He's early, apparently, so can't pull away yet. Eventually, we do the off, and he trundles back the way we just came. Just before we get past a certain point, it occurs to me the woman at KFC said 45 minutes till the chicken was ready. Time since leaving KFC?

Nearly an hour!

So, we jump off the bus two stops early - instead of having to wander around the entire town centre, we cut across the back of it. Simples!

We get there and there are others queuing for food. Result, must be ready. Three people in front. Two people in front.

"Oh, we haven't actually got ANY chicken, unless you want Hot Wings, Gravy and Fries. That's all we have... But Pitsea is open!"

Now I have to wonder at this point, WHY THE HELL were they still letting customers in?? Put a sign on the door: "We're not that bright, so come on in, queue for ten minutes till we realise there isn't anything you want here!" In the history of EVER I don't believe I have heard someone say "I want some KFC Hot Wings, with gravy and fries!"

This is the point where I am so pissed off, I start muttering naughty words under my breath. Jaysen has been lugging the bottles of Red Bull around since we got them, my pain killers are no longer doing anything, and NOW it's a matter of principle.

My woman wants KFC? My woman GETS KFC!

Then my phone battery died.

Stomping - no longer walking, but stomping - back around the back of Basildon, we head back around to the bus stop we were sitting at originally to go to Pitsea. A #5 comes along, proclaiming he is going to Pitsea.

It's the same driver as before. I say nothing, I don't move. I might be rude otherwise.

We wait and wait and - you get the picture. Another half hour, and a #8 turns up. He is definitely going to Pitsea. You know how I know? Because this bus goes right by our house. So we get on, and we enjoy the journey, passing home as we go, seeing Kellie with her nose glued to her Kindle and the girls wandering around, before the fleeting glimpse into our own lives is gone, and we're now looking in strangers windows.

FINALLY, the bus pulls into Pitsea. As we get off, we notice Dominic is about to get on. He's been at Lakeside with his friends all afternoon, and heading home, we cross paths.

So now it's me plus the two stooges. Or, as I like to refer to them, my baggage handlers. We get to the big KFC store and realise it's HEAVING. Twenty minutes it takes us to get to the counter, where, finally, with a gasp and a sob, I place the order for our big fat lardy bucket o' chicken and fries. Yes with Coleslaw and Gravy.

We leave the shop at 2015. The bus home is due at 2014, the next at 2044.

I curse.

Look where I am going.

See our bus sitting at the bus stop BEFORE ours, just idling.

I point it out to the boys. Explain we either walk then sit for half an hour, or we run hell for leather and stop the bastard if we can.

We run.

And run and run.

We get to the stop with 60 seconds to spare, and Mr Bus Man pulls up. Fifteen minutes later, at half eight in the evening, we fall in the front door, prize in hand.

We won.

It might have taken three hours, but we won. We got our chicken.

But I am exhausted. I am in agony. NEVER have I gone so far, fought SO HARD for a bucket of dead, fried poultry and some deep fried root vegetables.

I won.

A Random Thought

Why is it bacon and sausage are acceptable meats at breakfast time, yet lamb chops, a side of steak or half a roast chicken are not?

What makes the bacon & sausage so special that no one bats an eyelid when you have it at six in the morning, but of you were to roast a chicken to eat at that time, you get funny looks?

Sent from my HTC Desire HD, so excuse any strange formatting or auto-correct typos.

Grown Up Night Out

With the veritable shenanigans from last weeks evening out, the four of us had the back up parachute that was THIS weekend, when we would be going out for a nice evening out that, all things considered, was likely to finish later than midnight.

Woot.

The plan was to go and see Kerrys cousin play with his band at a club in Southend on Friday night. So, babysitters were advised to be ready, plans were made, details were hammered out... Luckily for some of us, yours truly is a smart-arse that likes to check things, and through a little bit of luck, I noticed that the flyer for the band showed they were playing SATURDAY night. Not Friday. So, another flurry of activity, and the babysitters and arrangements were juggled around so we could go out Saturday - not Friday.

FYI: it was the GIRLS that had planned the night out this time around... They are both claiming they were given bad information by the band, but I digress. I'm not one to blame others unless they are in the wrong.

*ahem*

So, Saturday night, the plan was pretty much, kids gone by four, we leave by five, meet Kerry & James on the train to Southend by about half five, get into Southend about six, have dinner in an Indian restaurant, have some drinks at the bar, watch the band, have some more drinks, head home.

The fact James called at four, running late in traffic, didn't bode well. We were ready to go just before five, but Kerry & James were having a nervous breakdown trying to get their shite together.  It should be added, that where women sulk that they "don't have a thing to wear" or "that's it, I look crap, I'm not going out" I need to point out that James is right up there with them. So with our group being comprised of three-quarters girly women that have to look just so, it's no wonder we were running late.

Blame where blame is due, after all.

So, with James crying down the phone that they were now at the station and cold, we were getting our arse into gear waiting for our cab and just missed one train. Back on the phone to James, we missed this train, but the next is due in fifteen minutes. Our train arrives, we get on, and let them know we're on the second carriage, at the second set of doors, and will be with them in a little bit.

A few minutes later, my phone rings, and once again, it's the six foot four woman.

James: You're not on this train?
Me: Er, yes we are...
James: No, you're not on THIS train...
Me: Did you get on the wrong train?

Now, technically, it's not the wrong train - it goes to Southend, but it wasn't the train WE were on. So, a few minutes ahead of us, they arrived in Southend, then we arrived too. Hi hi hello, you're late, you're fault, her fault, his fault, call a cab to the restaurant.

Miserable-arse taxi driver (number two of the night) drops us at the Indian place, and from that point on, the booze started flowing. Now, before we went out - and because we were ready and they were not, we had time to kill at home, so like any youngish couple that is child free with some spare time, we did what anyone would do.

We started drinking at home. Two or three Jagerbombs were already in our system.

So, at the restaurant, James decided it was Champagne o' Clock. I decided it would be a waste of time ME drinking champagne, as to me it's just fizzy wine. So I had a beer while they started on the champers. I know what you're thinking, champagne vs. beer is a no-brainer, but it doesn't do anything for me. At all. But, we were drinking, then out came the Sambuca, then we went to our table.

The food was gorgeous, absolutely wonderful, and while the girls were watching the clock worrying we'd miss the band, we enjoyed ourselves. Good food, good drinks, having a good evening, chatting and laughing. Another bottle of champagne, though this time with a measure of Amaretto in the glass (of which I partook!) while we were eating, and then out came the Long Island Iced Teas which, as it turned out, were gross, so they went back and were replaced by Woo-Woos for the girls, and Kentucky Jack for us boys. Cocktails are always a laugh...

With the meal all done with, we headed out along the seafront.  Now, a few years back, Southend-on-Sea was a busy spot for people going out, and was always heaving on a Saturday night. There are bars and clubs and pubs and amusement and a theme-park type thing too, not to mention the theatre up top and a couple of casinos, and loads of restaurants... THIS Saturday night, however, seemed, well... Quiet. There were people around, but it wasn't what I would consider busy by any stretch of the imagination.

By the time we got to the bar, we decided we needed more drinks. We met up with Chris and his band, said hellos and got some more drinks in. Dirty Vimtos (Port & WKD Blue) all around, followed by Jagerbombs. Once they were gone, it was Vodka & Coke for Kerry, JD & Coke for Kellie, and Rum & Coke for James and Myself. The bar was WARM so we had to keep our fluid intake up ;)

We left the bar and went to the venue next door and listened to a couple of bands play - all amateur, but pretty good. None of this Britains Got X Talent crap, proper bands with proper music. While we were waiting, we opted for more drink - JD & Coke, Vodka & Coke, I had a beer, James had something - oh, and more Jagerbombs.

Finally, despite flapping about being here or there late, people taking ages to get ready, people getting on the wrong train, eating dinner at a slow, leisurely pace, we were in the right place AND at the right time to see Chris and his band - FTL - come on and do their set. Before you go much further, go visit them on Facebook! Clicky clicky clicky!

They were brilliant - three guitars and a drum kit, you can't go wrong - and we all rocked out while drinking more drinks.  The did several songs, and afterwards, after giving our congrats and saying our goodbyes, the band left.

Yes folks, you read that right - the youngsters that are living a rock and roll life went home as they were tired. Us lot, however, well, even though we could have made the last train home (at a push), we decided to plunder Southend a little more. It was a little after 11pm, and upon leaving the venue, we were pretty much in awe at the lack of people on the seafront on a Saturday night. It wasn't particularly chilly despite being early November. There were no "sporting events" on that I could think of - besides, all the pubs had big-screen TVs for such occasions. Unless the world has gone MeNtAl and everyone stays in now to watch Reality TV (which, as I write this, is actually a fairly good assumption), Southend was deserted.

So, what do four people with babysitters, no kids, and time to kill do?

That's right, we sat down and ordered more drinks! We sat outside the bar for just over an hour, drinking, chatting, laughing - we had a REALLY good night, putting the world to rights, talking about complete an utter shit, talking about serious stuff... It was brilliant.

With it now gone midnight, and all still a little tipsy, we decided food was in order, so we plundered the local chippy, got a load of chips and had a munch out. James, being "manly" and all had a cup of tea.

*ahem*

With food in our bellies, and being on the Seafront, there is only really one other thing to do. We hit the arcades! Getting a pocketful of change, we started playing games. Kellie & myself had a rip-roaring games of Air Hockey. Granted, I kicked her pretty little backside 7-3, and I scored two of her points. I cheated, apparently, but unless my telekinetic powers have finally blossomed, I'm fairly sure that's another way of her saying "Shit, I'm pissed, I need an excuse..."

With her luck being what it was, she then tried her luck on a fruit machine, and swore at it after it stole her £1.70. Time Crisis next, and while I had NO idea what was going on with the plot, I racked up 70% of the kills with 86% accuracy. I think Kellie was the eye-candy in that movie.. Lastly, to give the government additional research into Drink Driving, we hopped on Mario Kart. We didn't play together - she pressed the wrong pedal - but while both WELL over the limit, we both won our games. However, it is fair to say the rules of the road do NOT apply to Mario Kart - I've not seen many Real World drivers firing mushrooms at people, and ramming a gorilla off the road - while amusing - is not an every-day occurrence.

Just before half one, Mr Taxi Driver arrived outside, so we all bundled in and dropped the first two weirdos off on Canvey - even if it was ME that had to point out where their road was to the driver. I think they were dozing.. Kellie and myself rolled in the front door just before 2am, and set to picking up the chaos of sweets that the cats had dragged everywhere - Galadriel has a thing for taking sweets off the side and unwrapping them - and possibly eating them - to play with the wrappers themselves.  Freaks.

Despite the drink, despite taking a handful of painkillers once I fell into bed, despite being shattered, I could NOT get to sleep properly. It was gone five last time I looked at the clock, and then, at half eight, the 0dd Mother-in-Law dropped off the kids.

Of the two of us, 50% of us did not have a hang over. Nor did 50% of us remain in bed dribbling till lunchtime. Nor did we keep drinking water, ask for the TV to be turned down, for voices to be lowered or pull the curtains to keep daylight out.

Or, to put it another way, I was fine. Kellie, however, was not. I even had to pop out to get her a Pot Noodle to get her some carbs.

A brilliant night was had by all. It was nice to not have to watch a clock, worry about the babysitters getting pissy, to talk about pretty much ANYTHING without causing offence, to have a good laugh and joke, and to let our proverbial hair down to good food, good drinks and good music.

Oh, and as a lasting memory - sitting in the cold has made Kellie poorly, who is now sucking furiously on throat medicines, and sounds like she's turning into Yoda.

A Night Out!

Since the beginning of October, we had been planning on going out on the night of the 30th. The plan was simple - a local restaurant was hosting a fancy dress Halloween night of food and music and dancing, so at the start of the month, we booked out tickets - Kellie & Myself, plus Kerry & James.

We decided - for giggles - to go as Witches & Wizards. Nothing 0dd in that, except, the girls were going to be the Wizards, and us boys would be the Witches. The girls got costumes, but obviously, we needed something more special, so started sorting our dresses, tights/stockings/hats/broomsticks/makeup - the whole lot.

Those of you that have known me for several years will know that Dressing Up used to form part of my main hobby, that of Live Roleplaying. I used to love going, costumed up, running adventures - brilliant stuff. Sorting costumes and props for our night out reminded me how much I loved - and miss - LRPing.  What I didn't count on, however, was nerves. I've not been out in public dressed like a crazy in many years, and while I was looking forward to it, my stomach decided to be a bit nervy. I knew I'd be OK eventually, as we'd be with other like-minded crazies that would also look rather 0dd.

Yesterday morning - while putting the finishing touches to our costumes, the phone rings. It's the restaurant, telling us the night is cancelled due to lack of ticket sales.

Arse.

So, a flurry of activity between us and K+J, we start to figure where we're going to go instead. Using the powers of the Intarwebz, as well as local papers, we started to hunt. Page after page of "Events" and "What;'s Happening" and "Social Stuff" and we made an interesting discovery...

There was NOTHING else going on within 30 miles of us. Not a party, not a function, not a fancy dress screening of anything... So, with the girls being pissed off, we decided to see what movies were on. Don't Be Afraid of The Dark was the first scary movie that sprang to my mind, but it's not showing anywhere in Essex. Kent or London, yes, but Essex? No.  Paranormal Activity 3 was showing, but A) I've not seen the first two, and B) The girls refuse to watch #1 on grounds of it being "too scary".

Then the discussion shifted - let's wear our costumes to the cinema AND eat out somewhere. I was not impressed with this idea. I had chilled out a bit thinking "no need for costume" but at the mention of wearing it - in public, where no one else would be wearing theirs - I was not having none of it. At all. I could handle being dressed up with other dressed up sorts, but not going out for an evening dressed like it. Hell no.

I don't do "center of attention" very well at all, let alone out and about in Basildonia. So the other three all started sulking. "If you're not wearing yours, we're not wearing ours!" came the cries.

They tried Guilt. On me. Ha!

I pointed out that at NO point was I stopping them wearing theirs, that at no point would I have any issue with them being dressed up and me being, well, dressed, and at no point did I tell them I would feel left out.

But no, if Dan wasn't dressed up, they wouldn't be either. Again, the guilt didn't work, but they are grown ups - they can make their own decisions ;)

So anyway, I was up for several movies - Tin Tin, Contagion, The Three Musketeers, I'd have been quite happy with them. However, group of four, trying to get all four to decide on something = not easy. 3/4 thought Tin Tin was a good idea. 2/4 voted Paranormal Activity. And so on... Kellie put on a trailer for something called We Need To Talk About Kevin and said it looked interesting. I sort of wrinkled my nose - it didn't do anything for me. Kerry agreed with Kellie that it looked interesting, and James made the decision that THAT would be what we were seeing.

I, however, kept quite because I'd already "made" everyone not wear their costumes. I didn't want to tell them the film looked iffy.

So, first stop of the evening was Aroma - an All-You-Can-Eat Chinese buffet restaurant that is lovely. And James and Myself really do put that to the test - we eat all we can. I opted for a plate of MEAT, I skipped the noodles and rice and stuff, I just wanted MEAT. Us boys had, er.. three plates each, while the girls scoffed two. Then we had dessert. Om nom nom and indeed, nom.

Then we hit the cinema. Grabbed our Stupidly Oversized Popcorn and Bladder Busting Drink, went into the cinema and plonked our bums. Movie started.

Now, I am not by any means a film snob. Far from it, I tend to find Arty-Farty movies not to be my cup of tea. They may well be the greatest movies of all time, but they don't do anything for me. At all. And "indie" films also don't stoke my proverbial fire.

Ten minutes into the film, and it was all about focusing in and out, jumping between "now" and "then", using colour as a metaphor, having very quiet sounds play just out of your hearing... I thought "uh oh" but sat and remained quiet.

We Need To Talk About Kevin has received rave reviews. Star Ratings coming out of the wazoo. Stormed the crowds at Cannes. No doubt it did well at every other arty-farty film festival.

At one point, I noticed Kerry was asleep. James was doing the nodding-head-forwards thing. But I endured. Something might happen to interest me.

Kellie guessed one of the main twists five minutes before it happened on the screen. The ONLY character I liked in the whole thing meets a grisly end (which, I suppose, is the point) and in the long run, was depressing as f$ck.

So, screen goes black. I look at Kellie, I glare at James. Kerry makes a "What the f..." comment, and I'm SO with her. And everyone else in the cinema just looked at the person they were with, with the exact same expression I could feel on my face. The movie ended, everyone got up and walked out.

In complete and utter silence.

Nothing, not a word, not a cheer. Those three went for a pee, and I stood outside waiting for them. Another couple left, and she said to him "What was that film about, exactly?" and he just shrugged.

I am happy to report, that James did receive a fairly large amount of shite for his choice of movie. Flak here, flak in person, flak on Facebook, even flak on Twitter - which he doesn't even use! I can honestly, hand-on-heart say that I did NOT enjoy that film. No one in there seemed to. Maybe it was just us, maybe it was just that kind of film but I can't see how it got the reviews it got.

I suspect that at someone will probably come on here with their Anonymous hat on, and rip the crap out of me/us for our review of the movie. Feel free, in fact. You liked it, we didn't. You have your positive review, I have my negative.

I'm not telling anyone to not go see it. I'm sure some of you will prolly like it, or even love it. But we unanimously did not like it nor love it. And the same goes for James. We neither like nor love him any more.

And he will come here, make his case for his defence. Just ignore him. He has no say in movies any more.

Kippers

Random sharing of the day...

Kellie and I had kippers for our lunch.  We're trying to get more fish in our diets, and both liking kippers, we thought "ooooh"

So, as I started cooking them, I realised how much they really smell.  Not a nasty smell, just a smoky, fishy smell.

Minds out the gutter s'il vous plait.

Aaanyway.  They took fifteen minutes to cook and they were quite a nice smell.  They were really yummy too, and we had them with some proper rustic bread and butter.  Mmmm.

That was seven hours ago, and still when I belch, my head is filled with the smell of them.  Seven hours ago, they were nice.  Six hours ago, it was a bit wiffy. Five hours ago, I was on the bus and smelling in public.  Four point five hours ago I burped at Gemma and killed her in a gassy fish cloud.

NOW, however, I want to stop the smell.  I think bleach is the only next reasonable step. I pity the people behind me tomorrow.

That is all.

Hankerings...

When you women-sorts are preggers, you have what are generally known as Cravings.  Cucumber dipped in chocolate sauce.  Peanut butter and cat food.  Brains.

No wait, that last one is zombies...

Still, I digress.  Lots of people often get cravings, and they are usually worded in the fashion of "Cor, I really fancy such-and-such thing."  I am guilty of it, and I believe that everyone has, at some time or another, really needed that bit of cake, lump of steak, tuna salad or whatever.

However, over the last few days, I have had what I can only describe as a hankering.  That is, I really fancy something, but I have NO idea what I fancy.  Which, of course, is not only driving me mad, but driving Kellie mad as well.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asks.  My answer is not helpful.  "Meh, whatever."  "Well what do you fancy?" she asks.  "Something... But I don't know what" is my reply.

Yeah, dinner times are a blast.

But the answer to my dilemma eludes me.  I fancy something "nice" or something "different" but I really don't know what.  Don't get me wrong, I love most foods, and am quite happy to eat whatever (excluding Fish Fingers of course) but dinner at the moment is not pushing my proverbial buttons, as it were.

Sadly, there isn't a "Something Nice" section at the supermarket, and even worse, there is nothing in any cook books for "Appeasing Dan"  I don't know if I want something I've never had before, if I want sweet or savoury, if I want something foreign or homey...  It's really quite annoying and quite a dilemma.

And, until I discover exactly what it is, I will just have to keep eating various nice-ish things till my hankering is satisfied...

The Intarweb LIES!

The internet as we know it is full of lies.  Lies, Mistruths, Incorrectness and general falsehoods.

To be fair, I've never (EVER!) fallen for virus warnings of the sort that will end the world and require you to warn everyone you know.  Phishing scams and the like make me chuckle, and as we all know, I enjoy tormenting these people.  Scams and Urban Legends and the rest of it I read, smirk, and wonder who falls for it.

But there are other things out there that you would assume be safe from LIES, and this my friends, is my confession.

I sort of fell for something.

See, 0dd Sister, Gemma, is a collector of recipes.  And with me plodding through the world of the internet and collecting recipes, she shared with me her Big Folder O' Food™ and I had a perusal of it.  Being a lazy so-and-so, and being a fan of Malt Loaf, I saw what can only be described as a really lazy and perhaps "too good to be true" recipe for said-loaf.

I looked at it, and Gemma was sort of "meh" over it.  I wrote it down, and later in the week, showed Kellie who, it has to be said, mocked me and it.  "THAT -" she declared in a matter-of-fact tone of voice that only a woman can do "- is not a recipe for malt loaf"

Of course, she could have told me it would end the world as we knew it, and I would have still tried it.  So, today, I went shopping, got the couple of bits I needed for it, and proceeded to make it.  For the record, I shall write the entire recipe and method here.  Which, after looking at it, I have to say, it does look a bit... well, like someone added it for comedy purposes.

"Preheat oven to gas mark 4.  Put 3 weetabix, 4oz sugar and 4oz of raisins or sultanas in a mixing bowl.  Add 1 mug of hot black tea.  Leave to soak until the mixture has gone cold.  Stir and add 2 eggs.  Stir again and add 2oz Self-Raising Flour and 2oz Porridge Oats.  Mix thoroughly, add to loaf tin and bake."

And THAT is it.  Easy, clear, simple...

To be honest with you, my house now smells like someone has puked up a load of weetabix, and I've baked it.  Maybe - somehow - I did something wrong, or used... I don't know, "crap" instead of "flour" but it's not a nice smell.  And, for good measure, I've eaten some.  Kinda tastes like it smells, to be honest.

So, to 0dd Sister - remove the recipe ASAP ;)  To Kellie, shuddup!

Ooooh EDIT McEdit!  Now the "loaf" has cooled, I am happy to report it's actually not too bad.  In fact, it's rather nice!  Jaysen is well impressed with it too!  Now, it's NOT Malt Loaf that you'd buy in the shops, but then, I only used the cheapest ingredients that I could buy, so who knows, using proper stuff, it might taste even nice.  But, I stand corrected.  It is nice!

Food!

You know, sometimes I have these Ideas.  And, invariably, they spiral out of control, I get disheartened, and either do a half-arsed job, or completely abandon the Idea.  However, something that has been knocking around in my head for, oh, a million years, is a list of international recipies.  "National Dishes" as it were, of all the countries, of all the world.

My main reason for this, was pure and simple gluttony.  I love to try funky new foods, and am always willing to put something in my mouth in the name of research.  Well, except for Fish Fingers, but then, they're just a whole law unto themselves.

My other reason for wanting to do this, was curiosity.  What do they eat, say, in Burma?  Now, I know I could click on Mr Google, type it in and read something like "In Burma, the national dish is considered to be this food served with these things and eaten thusly." which is all well and good, but it's not the same as actually eating it for yourself and discovering for yourself WHAT it is and HOW it tastes.

Of course, my first item on the agenda, was getting a list of Countries of the World.  Easy Peasy, you might think.  However, five different sites gave five different lists of countries.  One had in excess of 250, one had less than 200, one decided that some countries don't count, one used this criteria, one used that criteria...  So, I've debating between two of these sites, the one with 257 Countries, and one with 193 Countries.

The difference in the two?  The larger list includes individual islands and territories (Paracel Islands or British Indian Ocean Territory, anyone?), while the second list lists all the countries recognised by the UN.  That's a difference of sixty countries - or sixty recipes.  Now, I am actually more inclined to use the larger list.  Yes, it's more work, but on the other hand, if the people in the British Indian Ocean Territory have a recipe that they are proud of, why shouldn't it get included?  The Paracel Islands, however, might have a dish it's proud of - but the CIA World Factbook (a very interesting site if you're bored, by the way!) states there are no inhabitants, aside from scattered military posts.

But still, I am more inclined to use the big list.  It will just mean going through the countries one at a time, and weeding out the ones that don't have a People living on them.  BUT - if I can somehow get in contact with, say, one of these military sorts based on the Paracel Islands, who knows - he/she might be able to say "Actually, we DO have a dish we like to cook here"

Oh, and as a sidenote - the CIA World Factbook lists 266 World Entities.

See, all these sites have political things to take into account.  For example, the 257-list doesn't include Tibet.  The CIA list Taiwan on it's own as it's claimed as independent AND by China.  Palestine is broken down in the West Bank and Gaza Strip...  The European Union, while neither a continent nor a Country - so the member-countries are listed together as it has "Country-like governance"  And even now, as I glance over the list beside me - I am rather amused to see that England, Ireland, Scotland & Wales are listed under The United Kingdom.  Which, technically is correct, but I'm sure if I listed, say, Roast Beef and Yorkshire puds as the national dish for the UK the rest of them would jump up with their Haggis, Leek Soup, or Guinness Stew and say "Whooooa nelly!"

And so it goes on...

See how fun this is going to be!

So, I will be using the list of 257 countries, and adding to it if need be.  Personally, I am not worried about Political or Social claims - it's the REGION I am interested in, and what they eat there.  Taiwan might be claimed by China, but I can bet it has different eating habits.

Politics, out.  Not interested.  Food, yes.

And so, to add to the fun.  After considering political maps and all the rest of it, and thinking about how the UK is actually four countries, it made me think of the USA, Canada, Russia...  One country, yes...  But waaaaaay massive to have ONE dish.  So, what I am hoping to do, is break them down - the US I will break down into States (so there's another 50 things needed!), and Canada & Russia broken down into their various regions (I'm ignorant as to how they break down to be honest), no doubt adding another shed-load to be done...  But still...  I am also considering doing the UK by County, or as near as dammit, anyway.  But then, as with the counties of the world - that's a list that varies, depending on the source.  It would appear to be 86 - but THAT list is the counties of England, Scotland and Wales...  I think that list might be left for a while maybe ;)  I suspect I might have to poke around and see how different the "local dishes" are between the counties, and go from there.  Perhaps have a list of Honourable Mentions at a later date for the "County Dishes".

You can see, my mind has been busy on this for a while ;)

The next hurdle - because I see many - will be the availability of ingredients.  Oh yes folks, not only am I compiling this list, but I will also be cooking and eating these dishes.  The drawback to this of course, is sourcing the ingredients.  What might be the staple food of one culture, it might be like gold dust over here, and I don't want to bankrupt myself getting something.  So, if need be, I will be looking at alternative ingredients.  If something calls for Monkey Butt, I will need to figure what is the next best thing...  I'm fairly sure that nipping to London Zoo and slicing off a monkeys arse won't go down too well.  So, in place of Item X, I'll have to use Item Y.

I intend to get everything as close to authenticity as possible, and will be using markets, ethnic stores and probably hunting around online for things I need.  I am sure between Kellie, Gemma and picking the brains of people online, I can source everything I need.

Let's just hope Monkey Arse isn't a key ingredient to something.

And then there is YOU, dear reader.  Yep, I intend to pick your brains, especially if you happen to live abroad, especially-especially if you have friends flung out around the world that you can hassle.  Of course, this, I suspect, is going to take up a lot of space - which means I will be creating another blog for the purpose of this project.  And before anyone says "Actually Dan, this has been done - go here and see!" I don't want to know.  I want to do this for me, for the experience, and even for you to be entertained by having to eat squid testicles and monkey arse.  I will be posting every recipie I get that is decided to be the idea national dish for each country, get it cooked, eaten and let you know what it's like!

I wonder if squid have testicles...  Hmmm...
(Edit: Yes.  Yes they do.)

So, there we have it.  My slightly strange mind has once again come up with an idea that serves no real purpose - but it should be interesting!!

Be on the lookout for a new link to a new blog, and be ready for silly questions!  If you have any ideas or comments, feel free to add them here, to the new blog (once it's made), email me, or drop me a line on Facebook!

And apologies for any typos in this - my brain is running all over the shop and my hands are trying to write faster than possible!


Edit: OK Chaps, I have now set up the new home for all this nonsense.  You can now go to Around The World in 80+ Meals! I've added the list of countries I am using, plus the list of Counties and States (just in case!), and will get working on it fairly soon.  Now to find out which countries actually have people that cook!!