Barca

Yesterday was boy’s day in, Ioannis and I watching Barcelona teach Chelsea and Morinyo some manners. What a sad loser he is! Whereas Ronaldinho was at his magnificent best, showing great discipline as well as skill, and coming up with a brilliant goal as he muscled even Terry out of his way! Fantabulousa! we had the fine company of Miss Stella (Maiden name Artois) and Freschetta pizzas that melt in your mouth.

Miss X and I might be going over to Lara’s for a Mexican Dindin party; her brother’s apparently gifted her something called a tepin or something which means flat grill to you and me. So it’s fajita time, burrito time and mescale time! It’s gonna clash with the Liverpool v Benfica AND Arse n all v Real Madrid matches though, hence I said we might be going over. I need to get the Hollywood game from Jessy so that we can play it at the party. If you haven’t heard of the board game, go out and get it now. Nothing short of an A-bomb (or Nana’s farts) can break up a happy family as effectively as that. Monopoly-Shomopoly. You have to travel across the board buying studios and tv channels, similar to “that other board game mentioned above” but there’s also an inner track you have to go round making movies, buying actors, actresses, directors and screenplays, and that’s how you make money. Terrificly bloodthirsty game.

In theory…

I forgot to tell you guys that I booked my driving theory test this Monday. It’s due for the 20th, the Monday after the next. So I’m supposed to be slogging through the test books and whatnot, only, being a Mr. Know-it-all, I figure I’m going to sail through the whole thing anyway, so why bother? After all, I’m not likely to do a Jessy and fail, am I?

Oh, and I also forgot to mention Monday’s ground-breaking Chicken Alexander The Great Salad (patent pending). Somebody only wanted lasagne, but while it was cooking she had the chance to sample my special (not a metaphor).

Ingredients:

Required. Oh yes. Definitely. Becomes much more difficult without them.

Cooking method:

Open the packet of cooked chicken breast. Drizzle (you can pour if you don’t know how to drizzle) some olive oil into a frying pan and start browning the chicken pieces. Add croutons, or just tear up some bread, preferably the end slices because they are thicker. That’s what I did. Hovis medium, best of both. Keep shaking.

Meanwhile in another corner of the kitchen, open the packets of shredded lettuce and salad leaves. Throw them into a bowl (I used a cooking pot) and add pepper to it. Open the packet of grated cheese (ASDA sells a “Pizza and pasta cheese mix” with mozzarella, cheddar, pecorino and manchego cheeses). I had never even heard of manchego before, but it were brill! Toss them all together, and then chop up some pickled silverskin onions and chuck them in as well. I used around 8.

Jumping back to the chicken which you have been shaking all along, add some ginger and garlic paste, as well as a teaspoon of pesto. Mix well. Then dump the whole flipping deal on top of the rabbit food. Shovel some mayonnaise on top, as well as some balsamic vinegar and serve immediately.

Voila!! (French for “there you have it, you illiterate spawn of a good-for-nothing peasant”. Pronounced ‘Voy-Lah’)

Ioannis had a taste of it, and even though it was a day old he couldn’t help ranting and raving about the great taste. Go on Ioannis, tell ’em like it is.

Dirty deeds

This morning, I woke myself up by playing a CD that my sister had compiled and sent me on the occasion of one of my numerous birthdays (every year, dammit! EVERY YEAR!). Song No. 7 (or 8, I’m not so sure now that I have to put my reputation on the line) was NOT by Weird Al Yankovic but by Bob Rivers and was a parody of AC DC’s song “Dirty deeds done dirt cheap”. This song was called “Dirty deeds done with sheep”, and had me rolling on the ground (I mean alone and in a totally non-sexual context). I was instantly reminded of a friend of mine (you know who you are, Rob 😛 ).

This is the middle stanza

“My friend Larry has a little lamb,
Her fleece is white as snow,
He keeps bragging about her night and day,
Someone should tell him no.
Look at the flock, they’re all in shock,
Here comes that mutton fan,
Knock off the fleece, give them some peace,
Don’t be a barnyard man.”

And then this the bridge.

“Velcro gloves, kneepads, late-night dates.
Done with sheep.
Warning signs, electric fences, high voltage.
Done with sheep.”

Slevin Kelevra

Yesterday Ms X, Jessy, Nalleli (Jessy’s housemate), Victor (Nalleli’s friend), another girl (who remained un-introduced so I don’t know whose friend she is) and I went to AMC to watch ‘Lucky Number Slevin’. It was a real rollercoaster ride of a movie. I was wondering how they were going to manage having such a large cast in the movie. The answer seemes to be: by killing everyone off at the first opportunity. The flick really grabs you by the gonads. There’s some really cool scenes, great one-liners. Basically a film worthy of Tarantino (Pulp Fiction) or Guy Ritchie (Snatch, etc.). And watch out for the psychedelic wallpaper everywhere!
My rating? 3 out of 10: A must see (I’m a tough customer)

Cheese nightcap

What a weirdo-mondo dream I had last night/this morning! I was tossing and turning all night, and so went to the hall to crash on the couch with a book. When I finally nodded off, I had a dream where I had just landed in Manchester in an unfamiliar airport, and was waiting for Ioannis and Tracy to come along and pick me up, but then both of them spoke to me on the phone pretending not to have understood. To make matters worse, they said they were in the Footage expecting to meet me there. And to top it all off, I heard Johnny’s voice in the background laughing and having a good time. So I starting running with my bag, because I realised that the airport was in fact just around the corner from the Footage. But I was mistaken, so I turned back and saw this red Lada with a taxi sign, so I ran towards it. It already had an elderly couple in the back, but they waved me in to share the cab. I said I was going as far as Oxford Road and got in next to this unshaven East European taxi driver, who promptly began hurling his Lada around corners. The couple had also obviously got off a plane, so I asked them about it, and we started comparing notes on Prague. Then I look up and we were in Vienna! And I started worrying whther I had enough money to pay the taxi fare from Vienna to The Footage. I believe I said something like “He’s going the long way round” to the couple. Then the couple jumped into a boat in a fountain, and it’s all downhill from there. Oh, I think it might be of importance that I had watched ‘The Bourne Supremacy’ in bed. Cracking movie!!

Untitled

Nothing to say.
Sunday’s a good day.
Slippery frost on the ground.
Chilly wind nipping around my heels.
But it feels okay.

Busy or what?

I’ve been having a hectic life recently, what with all the legwork I’m having to do in order to find a job. Yesterday I had to go to the Post Office to buy A4 envelopes in which to place my CVs and cover letters. I also printed out my CVs on the same day! Talk about efficient management of one’s scarce resources. Ah, but then you don’t know me, my friends. Behind this calm, placid, almost bovine exterior is concealed the sharpness of wit and speed of action that a panda may well be proud of.

After gallivanting around town with Ms X, we had to rush home to cook the 5 fillets of chicken I had lounging in my fridge. (These fillets I had prepared from chicken I personally slaughtered, although catching them wasn’t half as hard as I thought it might be. The poor dears were definitely under the weather, maybe it was the flu.) WHAT? Did you really expect me to talk about chicken and NOT mention the flu??. That was made just in time for us to sneak a cheeky little dindin with Mom at Rusholme (where else?) and return home not wanting to go to Tracy’s Willy anymore. So all the Creamy Peppercorn Chicken con Asian Influenza A (H5N1) is still languishing in my fridge, although I did manage to make a considerable dent in it at around four in t’ morning.

Sven’s the man!

Oh, great nail-biting victory for England against Uruguay yesterday, it was thrilling to watch. It ended 2-1, with the visitors getting ahead in the 26th minute with the goal of the year; a volley to the topleft corner from 40+ yards out. But England came back with Crouch, and then deservedly Cole got one in the 93rd minute.
Highlight of the match? well, apart from the spectacular goal by the Uruguayan Pouse, I really enjoyed watching Crouch and Wright-Phillips standing next to each other as they were waiting to be substituted. Crouch is 6’7″ and W-P isn’t an inch over 5 foot, I reckon. Haha, you can’t write such comedy!!

Italian anyone?

I had written this down in my notepad to share with you guys, but forgot. It might not be timely then, but it still is funny. The Italian Olympic 2-man luge (downhill sliding on ice) team was comprised of Mr. Plankensteiner and Mr. Haselreider. I’m not much of an Italian speaker myself, unless you count “What-ta good-a pasta, like-a my mamma make-a” (I know. Uncanny.), but surely those names are more Teutonic than Schnitzels und Lederhosen.

Bon Voyage

Two good friends of mine, Ana and Papitu (my erstwhile “Spanish Connections” in Manchester) are going to visit South America for a couple of months: Chile, Bolivia and Peru. I wish them loads of luck in their travels to the post box with postcards addressed to me with stamps of exotic fauna, and I guess I should say I hope they enjoy the rest of their time there too.

Viva! – The Spanish-and-Latin-American film festival is coming to The Cornerhouse, there are some nice films I wanna watch. I watched ‘Munich’ yesterday with Ms X again, a bit sentimental, but an admirable job by Stevie (Steven Spielberg to you) in keeping it neutral. Also the casting of the main character was inspired, they really got the right person. because it was in a way an historical recounting, it had to be shot in period settings. I especially enjoyed seeing Cyprus with Communist and Orthodox posters stuck on the walls.

I’m reading Mario Puzo at the moment, a book called Fools Die (how corny!). He has a mesmeric way of making you identify with characters; in fact, I believe the main man Merlyn is actually a less-neurotic me!!

I logged on to MSN thanks to a certain PhD student letting me in to her private office :), and managed to chat with Helgi (an ex-MBS colleague from Iceland) after a long time.