Damnation and an eternal curse on the ‘electrickery’ company – who fail my remote humble abode each and every time a thunderstorm looms. Last eve when the storm rolled in I knew it would be a case of; “Lights out – pipes out.” Fortunately I had sufficient candles as it was too hot to flash up the tilley lamps, which is a good thing – quaffing Port in the company of flickering candle light has a wondrous calming effect. Disco legs at 04:00hrs in complete darkness is not something I would recommend, especially when sleeping dogs lie – underfoot. Yours_Aye.
Kraft recalls 36,000 cases of singles because one side of the wrapper could stick to the cheese and pose a choking hazard.
According to Kraft, the recall affects three and four-pound packages of American and White American slices with a sell-by date of December 29 2015 to January 4 2016.
Each affected batch has a manufacturing code of ‘S54’ or ‘S55’ on it and the firm is urging consumers who purchased the goods to return them immediately. The company said it had already received 10 consumer complaints and three reports of choking due to the wrappers not coming off the cheese completely.
Having once eaten a single slice of Kraft; “pasteurized prepared cheese product” (never, ever again!) I could only presume that the additional slice of plastic wrapper would add texture and flavour to the product? (Kraft isn’t permitted to refer to Singles as “cheese” because the word indicates that a product is made with at least 51% real cheese.) Hence; “pasteurized prepared cheese product!” The ingredients being; Cheddar cheese (milk, cheese culture, salt, enzymes). Whey. Water. Protein concentrate. Milk. Sodium citrate. Calcium phosphate. Milk fat. Gelatin. Salt. Sodium phosphate. Lactic acid as a preservative. Annatto and paprika extract (color.) Enzymes. Vitamin A palmitate. Cheese culture. Vitamin D3.
Although there are over 700 different varieties of cheese over here in the UK – my preference is for a mild Cheddar, or a nice piece of Wensleydale. But never, ever, Vegan cheese! I’d rather eat several slices of Kraft “pasteurized prepared cheese product” wrapped around a chunk of Stinking Bishop! Yours_Aye.
The new milder version of Colman’s mustard will still have a traditional English mustard flavour but the heat level will be ‘mellowed’ to one similar to its American-style hot dog taste.
How very dare they! This is an absolute outrage, a national disgrace, indeed it is an abomination! I intend to pen a letter to the Prime Minister ‘cc’ to The Parliamentary Under Secretary of State at the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs. Gad! We are turning young men into lady boys by offering such fare… How can I visit France ever again, and ask for a ham sandwich layered with Coleman’s Mustard ? Yours_Aye.
Matt Stonie (right) stopped Chestnut’s (left) bid for a ninth straight victory on Saturday. Stonie, who finished second last year, downed 62 hot dogs and buns. The 23-year-old competitor beat the 31-year-old Chestnut (both seen top right) by two dogs. 4th of July, Nathan’s Famous at Coney Island.
Nathan’s Beef Franks ingredients: Beef? Water, Contains 2% or less of Salt, Sorbitol, Sodium Lactate, Natural Flavoring, Sodium Phosphate, Hydrolyzed Corn Protein, Paprika, Sodium Diacetate, Sodium Erythorbate, Sodium Nitrite.
Which is why I buy my ‘non-preservative’ 99% beef/pork/game sausage’s at the local butchers farm shop. The only hot dogs allowed across the threshold of my humble abode are four legged ones – after a long walk! Yours_Aye.
IQ tests reveal pigs can outsmart dogs and chimpanzees…
Well riddle me this… If they’re so smart, how come ‘they’ always end up in a sandwich, and not the dogs or chimps? Yours Aye.
The savoury-sweet combination is the brainchild of Welshman Liam Bennett who is currently raising funds on Kickstarter so he can start producing the jam-injected bangers on a larger scale. He admits that his barmy plan to inject sausages with jam wasn’t well received at first – but says that people now love it.
No, No, and thrice No! Bangers and mash with onion gravy and peas are a midweek favourite. You cannot mess with a blokes sausage in such a way – it’s not natural… We may have to start manning Offa’s Dyke once again, to stop this madness from crossing into England. Yours Aye.
My start to the day early on a Saturday morning is a drive to buy the The Telegraph from my local newsagent, as breakfast never starts without its crisp pages laid before my place at the table. This morning as I picked up the paper I realised I had left my wallet at home – fortunately there was a £2 coin in my truck, which covered the price of the broadsheet exactly. Unfortunately just inside the door of the shop was a display that caught my eye; “Special Offer: Four packs of McVitie’s Fig Rolls with 30% extra fruit.”
Now I’m renowned for my iron discipline and strong character, I know I react well to any type of incident – hasty rash decisions are simply not part of my being. ‘But for Gawds sake take pity on me this day, for there in front of me were four packs of McVitie’s Fig Rolls with 30% extra fruit, priced at £2-!’
I dithered, dawdled, and fumbled – in short I went to pieces; “The body was strong: yet the mind wandered into temptation, influenced by my taste buds, and the desire to hold one of those little baked – ‘crumbly on the outside’ – ‘exotically soft in the middle’ – beauties.” Damn those genius package designers – damn them to hell – and a hex on the newsagent for her enticement, charms, and seductive display. Slinking away from the shop with my immoral purchase I felt excited and yet also ashamed.
Reading ‘The Telegraph’ on an iPad whilst eating a full English breakfast is a degrading exercise, and not something I would recommend! I had let Queen and Country down, as well as my three canines and myself. Had I owned a revolver I would have taken it into the library for a damn good clean… But! Here I am at 02:20hrs with a cuppa-char, two fig rolls, three snoring canines, and life couldn’t be better. 😉 Yours Aye.
One thing I have learned through life’s bumpy ride is to accept and analyse what nature throws down, and then work around it. We are an adaptable species regardless of our background and upbringing – arguably some would find it more difficult to survive than others – but inevitably the struggle would happen as degradation leads to dehumanisation, which is all part of our built-in self survival process that activates when we are thrown into a hostile or alien environment. Service personnel are among the most adaptable at such, which even includes the Air Force! Buck Pennington would have bitten on that, as he often did in his unique humorous way 😉
‘Dear readers; please allow a moment of narcissism as I blow my own brass bugle.’ As an experienced survival instructor I am able to adapt pretty quickly to any environment – my skills were tested this morning when I visited ‘Ye Olde Tea Shoppe’ that sadly is no more…
In its place there now resides a new ‘Carlos Fandango type – Coffee House’ that offers Palm Civet pooped “Luwak beans” as an eye-catching marketing ploy. Just one lip smacking blend from a mind-boggling list starting with “Affogato” through to “Galao” on to “Kopi Tubruk” finishing with “Yuanyang.” The list was an eclectic mix of nonsensical sounding coffee’s gathered from every corner of the world. For customers of an ‘irregular’ disposition they even serve “Kaffee Fertig” a strong coffee with Swiss prune schnapps. Dear old Aunt Maude would have an attack of the vapours at the very thought!
‘Enya’ the hot little barista bid me welcome in her foreign tongue (hot – because the heating was on full blast, and welcoming – because the place was empty!) Enya continued – spouting forth the ‘Coffea’ plant potions on offer… I politely stopped her oral assault and requested; “A pot of Yorkshire tea please” that obviously fell on well-trained selective hearing. She artfully changed vocal gear mid-sentence and spouted further nonsense relating to fiendishly sounding tea based poultices. From “Balin Gongfu” through to “Pu-erh” finishing with “Tulsi?” and many, many, devilish variants in-between…
Pausing to to ventilate her lungs between oxygen and carbon dioxide – I quickly seized the moment and pointed my finger at her: “Do you sell Yorkshire tea?“ Obviously my ploy caught her totally unawares, as she hesitated: “Erm… no!” I reached into my inner jacket pocket and retrieved my self folding Samsonite coin holder that holds a small airtight bag containing 6 Yorkshire Gold tea bags. “Well I’d like a teapot of boiling water, and please drop two of these little beauties into the pot first.” Her training kicked in as fast as the oxygen being drawn into her lungs: “I’ll have to charge you full price for a pot of house tea.” ~ “That’s fine, at least I know what I’m drinking, and it is my preferred blend.“
The ‘Coffee House’ will not survive long around such an old established market town, as Yorkshire folk do not take kindly to change – I was the one and only customer present in the time it took to browse my morning paper. Unbeknownst at the time, the original ‘Tea Shoppe’ had co-located within the old bakers shop just along the high street, which I discovered when I toddled off to buy two fresh loaves. Obviously I had to sit and quaff another cuppa-char, as I had to wash the freshly baked almond tart down with something. The place was packed to the gunwales with old and bold loyal ‘regulars’ (without a drop of ‘Kaffee Fertig’ in sight)… Yours Aye.
To ‘tip’ or not to ‘tip?’ That is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler to suffer piss poor waiter service:
Or to take complete advantage of the poor sod serving you…
With profuse apologies to the William Shakespeare preservation society (of which, I make amends beneath the featured clip below!) If you do decide to ignore the following; ‘NOT SAFE FOR WORK: WARNING’ because of the occasional F Bomb, then I can only presume you’re not at work, or even better, you work in a totally non PC environment. In which case you’re an extremely fortunate barsteward! HIP ~ HIP ~ HOORAY…
On a serious note: Having travelled around the US I have often wondered if ‘waiters’ would forsooth be better off on a living wage, rather than rely upon tips for a living. It does appear to work well over here in the UK, as well as around Europe. Yours Aye.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: aye, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover’d country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
“To Be Or Not To Be”: Soliloquy by Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 1: William Shakespeare 1603
Kim Jong-Un’s brows have halved in length and look further apart in what appears to be a severe case of over-plucking which was spotted as he gave his televised speech in Pyongyang. It is not clear whether Kim plans to make the rest of the country copy his fashion faux-pas, as he did earlier this year when he ordered all men to have their hair cut in his signature shaved back-and-sides style. Has someone hacked ‘Dear Leader’ Kim Jong-Un’s eyebrows?
If I may throw in my ten penneth worth on the trouble afflicting ‘Dear Leaders’ shrinking supercilia, which is a simple enough observation. ‘Festive season gluttony has forced his bowling ball head to jump from a twelve pounder to a sixteen pounder over a two-week period.’ In short, his head has simply outgrown his features! He may not be a ‘pheasant plucker’ but we all fall ‘fowl’ to piling on a few pounds over Christmas and New Year… I’ll drink to that. Yours Aye.
“I am not the pheasant plucker,
I’m the pheasant plucker’s mate.
I am only plucking pheasants
Because the pheasant plucker’s late.” Not to be repeated drunk in front of children…
Take that, Mr Salmond: English lay claim to Scottish smoked salmon… Because of the curing process invented in London. For the patriotic
‘Jockanese’ Scots, home-produced smoked salmon is as cherished a part of the national heritage as the ‘Loch Ness Monster’, tartan kilts and the poetry of Robbie Burns. But now, in an astonishing cross-border power grab, politicians in Westminster are seeking to claim the delicacy for England. Environment Secretary Elizabeth Truss has said she believes Britain’s Oldest Salmon Curers should have the same legal safeguards as other famous food products such as Melton Mowbray pork pies and Cornish clotted cream. Politicians in Westminster are seeking to claim Scottish smoked salmon because of the curing process invented in the East End of London
Having eaten smoked salmon from H. Foreman & Son I can confirm that they are quite delicious. Methinks we best prepare defensive positions on and around Hadrian’s wall, as I fear the first attacking wave of woad covered
‘sweaty socks’ ‘Jocks’ will be along very soon… Yours Aye ‘Och Aye’
Puddles the clown turns in a soul-stirring performance of the Christmas classic ‘Oh Holy Night’ showing once again why he’s called “The sad clown with the golden voice” Even if you’re not religious, you may well hit ‘play’ a second time…
Puddles music is a Marmite thing, ‘you either love it or hate it!’ Either way it’s an acquired taste that tends to polarise opinions. Yours Aye.
Obesity IS a disability! So rules the highest European Union court of Justice, after 5′ 6″ tall – 25st (350 pounds) Danish child-minder Karsten Kartoft was ‘sacked for being too fat to perform his job properly.’Hard-pressed businesses face costly bills after European judges controversially ruled that obesity can be classed as a disability. Companies will be forced to make concessions for overweight staff that could include extra-large office furniture, medical advice or exercise facilities. Firms could also face expensive compensation claims for discrimination if they sack someone for being overweight. The child-minder took action against his employer after he was sacked for not being able to tie up the shoelaces of the children he cared for!
“Mr Kaltoft, who has a body mass index of 54 – almost twice the official obesity level – said he did not believe he was disabled.”
The bloated European
circus of nonsense & ridiculousness Court of Justice in Luxembourg
It is my own humble opinion that gross obesity is a self-inflicted ‘disability!’ The decision passed down from the buffoons within the European circus of human ridiculousness is totally and utterly absurd – it also insults those with genuine disabilities. The sooner the human rights circus collapses its big tent and heads into liquidation – the better for all of us on this side of the pond. If you are unable to tie your own shoelaces – then have a quick look at the nearest wall, because the writing in plain view states you are not destined to shuffle around this planet for much longer. We are what we eat, the choice is plain and yet so simple! Yours Aye.
The tale of ‘un œuf pourri.’ This morning a kindly soul went out of their way to drop off one dozen free-range eggs onto my doorstep. When I say ‘drop off’ I obviously meant ‘placed the eggs’ within a cardboard egg container onto my doorstep, as I was away walking the canine’s at the time and found them on my return. A simple gesture of gratitude for a small favour I carried out a few days ago, an act I greatly appreciated as it meant scrambled eggs with toast for breakfast would soon follow. Throughout my adult years I have only ever fallen ‘foul’ of opening one rotten sulphurous egg (for those among you who have endured the same you will agree, it is ‘un œuf pourri’ too many.) As a young lad under instruction from my Gran I would often dunk eggs in a bowl to test their freshness, which is how I discovered todays rotten little blighter. One out of the dozen bobbed and floated atop the surface, while the remainder slowly sunk like ‘sun-dodgers’ of the silent service – to settle gently on their side. When ever I drop left over food into the small kitchen waste bin, Nipper religiously follows like a shadow – this time as I dropped the egg into the bin Nipper was nowhere to be seen. A wise choice as it turned out as I was about to suffer through my negligence… A human has about 5 million scent glands, compared to a dog, who has anywhere from 125 million to 300 million. TRUE!
The egg cracked open in the bin – just as 5 million of my scent glands detonated and almost forced my gag reflex to its maximum purge (several times!) But I managed to hold on to my early morning ‘pre-amble’ cuppa-char and fig roll – by maintaining a stiff upper lip and arching one eye brow, whilst thinking of Queen and Country – all under the watchful eye of Great Aunt Gertrude’s sepia coloured photograph! Having promptly ditched the bin outside I returned to scratch scrambled eggs from the morning menu, settling instead for fruit and toast for breakfast (sat in a wafting haze of Cotton Fresh Febreeze air freshner.) Three snouts combining 900 million scent glands soon joined me, as the divine smell of fresh toasted bread hit the air… Yours Aye.
Are POTATOES the ultimate diet food? How a chemical compound found in a spud is shown to prevent weight gain.
Potatoes have long been considered something of an anti-diet food, but new research has found that they may in fact prevent weight gain. According to a new paper published by researchers at McGill University, high potato consumption in mice was shown to decrease body weight gain. The team believes that the findings are due to potatoes’ high concentration of polyphenols – a disease-fighting chemical component found in fruits and vegetables. Potatoes are the ultimate diet food Just knock me down with a feather… Having just eaten a baked jacket potato the size of an old London house brick (appropriately – with a huge dollop of ‘cottage’ cheese atop it) I can honestly say I’m stuffed. But I can go to bed knowing I’ll wake up lighter and fitter in the morning. Thank you McGill University… Yours Aye.
It’s the time of year to eat fruit cakes and Christmas puddings in abundance. Now, experts have said the Christmas treats can be eaten long past their use-by-date. The U.S. Department for Agriculture advises fruit cakes can last up to three months in the fridge and up to a year in the freezer. But food safety experts believe they could last even longer…
We may need to agree to disagree on this one. I can vouch for the fact that Christmas pudding never lasts past Christmas day in my humble abode. Very much like ‘Chinese wedding cake’ after boxing day dinner, it only lasts for as long as it takes to devour it with a racing spoon! Yours Aye
‘Chinese wedding cake’: Naval slang for rice pudding and sultanas.