While flicking through the TV channels this evening, all of which were filled with low-rate Christmas specials, I briefly stopped to watch one of the many cooking shows that overrun our television screens throughout the year.
This particular cookery programme featured Gordon Ramsey. Ramsey is probably my favourite TV chef, or rather the only one I can tolerate. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is a pretentious cock. Jamie Oliver is a fish-lipped cockney cock; while all the other chefs, I have not bothered to watch for long enough to learn their name or what strange concoctions they are famous for cooking and serving up as food. However, they are probably all cocks.
Even old Gordon was crap tonight though. He was cooking with his kids and mother. You could tell he was getting frustrated when his son made a mistake and nearly ruined the entire meal, while later on in the episode Old Mother Ramsey hovered around her son, constantly telling him what he was doing wrong and how his cooking should be improved.
Not once did the chef famous for swearing let out a profanity. The show would have been a million times better, if after Gordon JNR had added too much egg to the meal, Ramsey had turned around and berated the infant with a tirade of abuse, brutal enough to result in a NSPCC investigation. I know its Christmas and the time for good will to all men, but I would have probably bought the Gordon Ramsey ‘Cooking with the Family’ DVD Boxset if he had stopped his mother mid-criticism, and told her to shut the fuck up and shoved the festive dessert they were preparing in her fat Scottish face.
Sadly, Gordon showed the patience of a saint. Either that or he bottled up all his anger and once the cameras had stopped running, threw Tiddles, the family cat, in the wheelie bin. Or rather given it to Hugh to stick in a River Cottage pie.
A few weeks ago, I went to Histon for Bath City’s FA Trophy match.
Football-wise, it was a successful trip. Bath City won the game having originally found themselves 2-0 down. From a personal point of view, the trip caused me a few problems…
While either clutching my head in despair whilst losing 2-0, queuing for an overpriced cup of hot chocolate or jumping around celebrating Alex Russell’s last minute winner; I lost my iPhone case. That’s the iPhone case before you all laugh, not the highly expensive phone itself. This was easily replaced for a few quid online, but the first of two annoyances caused by the trip to Cambridgeshire.
Secondly, my camera I bought in the summer has died. I only realised this yesterday. The last time it had been used was at Histon. Therefore, I am blaming the death of my Fuji S1730 entirely on the away day. Luckily, it is still under warranty, but late last night I did end up tipping my entire flat upside down and inside out, looking for the receipt I was given when I bought the camera in August.
I was unable to find it and went to bed late, frustrated and tired. In the morning, I remembered exactly where I had left it – in a safe place in an old cup inside the cupboard. Maddening.
I am in no immediate rush to sort the camera out and I don’t think I’ll brave Argos in search of a replacement this side of Christmas – I would be insane to step into any shop of any kind this week, what with all the fools who have left their shopping to the final hours. I would probably end up being kidnapped by some desperate father, stuck in a large hamster cage and given to a couple of kids as a present on Christmas morning. Hopefully when I do finally pluck up the courage to return the camera, I can get a refund and buy a better model in the sales… I’m not holding out much hope on that though.
What type of man wears a thick scarf, gloves and women’s tights in order to keep warm?
Alan Carr on a night out? Nope.
Some explorer braving the subzero temperatures of the Antarctic? No.
The answer:
Mario Balotelli while playing what is supposed to be the high speed, physical sport of football.
As Leeds United’s manager, Saint Simon Grayson (the Football God), told his players “The best way of keeping warm is by running around.”
The winter has well and truly returned after its short one week break. Today the snow fell like slices of bread, the pavements and roads are hazardous, some people left work early and it looks like if I want to watch a game of football this side of April, I’ll need to move to Delhi.
Apologies. It feels like I haven’t blogged for about 10,000 days. In a poor attempt to find an excuse for my recent lack of ramblings, I am going to blame the snow. Yes, the weather has stopped me from blogging.
Hopefully I’ll find the motivation to blog before next week when Santa drops the contents of his big sack down the chimney.