This so wasn't the plan.
The plan was to spend today working my butt off and clearing my desk, such that I could go along to tonight's Globe Centre fundraiser at the Vauxhall Tavern, and if, say, I happened to get a little trashed, to the point of not being able to go into work tomorrow, well, it really wouldn't matter too much.
I'm resigned to the fact I can never call in sick on a Monday morning, no matter how god-awful I feel, because they'll know it's entirely self-inflicted. A Friday though (aha!) would raise no such suspicions.
In the event though, my ferocious cold of a couple of weeks ago has decided it's time for a comeback, so I'm off today instead, and really not up to going along tonight anyway. Grrr.
I'm sure there's a moral in there somewhere, but I've never been very good with those.
Ah well, bring on the Lemsip, bring on the daytime TV, I can take it...
Wednesday, October 17, 2001
Troubled by bushy-tailed brethren in your back yard? No, me neither. But the people over at Outwitting Squirrels ('where squirrels fear to tread...') have all the advice you need, should you need it. They're normally a peaceable bunch, but I'm not so sure about today's suggestion:
SQUIRREL STEW (Could also be good with chicken)
4-5 squirrels, cleaned and de-headed
1/4 lb (1 stick) margarine
1 cup chopped onions
1/2 c chopped bell pepper
4 cloves garlic (chopped)
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp. finely chopped shallots
1 tbsp. finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup Burgundy wine
1 tbsp. flour (heaping)
Tony Zachary's Creole Seasoning
(or salt, red and black pepper)
4-ounce can mushroom (bits&pieces)
Cut each squirrel into pieces. Season well with Tony's or salt and
pepper. Melt margarine in a large cast iron pot and fry squirrels
until browned all over and they start to stick. Add onions, bell
peppers and garlic.
When vegetables are soft, add 1 cup of cold water, and Worcestershire
sauce. Cover the pot tightly and let simmer on very low heat 1 hour.
Stir well and add burgundy wine. Recover and cook until tender.
Remove cooked squirrel from pot, leaving as much juice in the pot as
possible.
Add 1 tbsp. flour to the liquid from the mushrooms and mix well. Add
this mixture, chopped onion tops, parsley and mushrooms to the gravy.
Cook for 5 minutes, stirring constantly until thickened. Pour over
cooked squirrel.
Serve over steaming rice
See also, I kid you not: Outwitting Deer.
SQUIRREL STEW (Could also be good with chicken)
4-5 squirrels, cleaned and de-headed
1/4 lb (1 stick) margarine
1 cup chopped onions
1/2 c chopped bell pepper
4 cloves garlic (chopped)
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tbsp. finely chopped shallots
1 tbsp. finely chopped parsley
1/2 cup Burgundy wine
1 tbsp. flour (heaping)
Tony Zachary's Creole Seasoning
(or salt, red and black pepper)
4-ounce can mushroom (bits&pieces)
Cut each squirrel into pieces. Season well with Tony's or salt and
pepper. Melt margarine in a large cast iron pot and fry squirrels
until browned all over and they start to stick. Add onions, bell
peppers and garlic.
When vegetables are soft, add 1 cup of cold water, and Worcestershire
sauce. Cover the pot tightly and let simmer on very low heat 1 hour.
Stir well and add burgundy wine. Recover and cook until tender.
Remove cooked squirrel from pot, leaving as much juice in the pot as
possible.
Add 1 tbsp. flour to the liquid from the mushrooms and mix well. Add
this mixture, chopped onion tops, parsley and mushrooms to the gravy.
Cook for 5 minutes, stirring constantly until thickened. Pour over
cooked squirrel.
Serve over steaming rice
See also, I kid you not: Outwitting Deer.
Tuesday, October 16, 2001
Naked engineering students....
No, not a bizarre search request - but next time one of my clients has a major recruitment problem, I think I might just have to suggest this as the solution...
No, not a bizarre search request - but next time one of my clients has a major recruitment problem, I think I might just have to suggest this as the solution...
Dave knows lots of Daves. But not all of them.
Dave also has far, far too much time on his hands.
Yeah pot, kettle, I know...
Dave also has far, far too much time on his hands.
Yeah pot, kettle, I know...
Monday, October 15, 2001
Ouch. Seriously hurty head today. But more than worth it, for (yet again) a hell of a weekend. In a good way, that is.
I'm not entirely sure why last night at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern was the wildest for many a week, and quite possibly the most enjoyable to date, but it undoubtedly was. And having been a little thin on the ground in recent weeks, it was great to have almost the full line-up of usual suspects back in force: Mikey and Kelvin back from Kos and looking impossibly relaxed and tanned, Dan, hyperactive having not come straight from Trade for once but actually having slept, Nathan and Jason, still on a high from Fist (more of which to follow), Byron and Nicholas, Cherie-from-the-BBC and Michael (still gorgeous, still straight - damn...), to name but a few. And undoubtedly a new record set for sheer drunkenness and over-indulgence on a Sunday. Which takes some doing, given the precedents.
I'd definitely lend my support though, to David's suggestion of some kind of loyalty of scheme - the pondering of which has led me to the downright scary realisation that, in any given month, almost 10% of my earnings go directly behind the Vauxhall bar (which, as London bars go, is very reasonably priced). Perhaps they could just set up some kind of direct debit scheme and save us the trouble of handing it all over manually?
Meanwhile Saturday, a riotous gathering at Bar Code, before Kelvin, Phil, Nigel and I piled into a cab down to the aforementioned, near-legendary, South London sleaze fest known as Fist. And a wild and wonderful night indeed - certainly my favourite of the handful of times I've been along. You'd think the whole leather/rubber/dresscode shenanigans would lead to it being purely be a sexual thing (and it's not to say there wasn't plenty of that going on. Apparently...) - but it's interesting how just getting dressed up in something out of the ordinary seems to bring out a real party spirit in all concerned. I guess it is just like a big fancy dress party after all. Hence a packed dancefloor and much hilarity, as well as all the other, ahem, diversions.
The current ad campaign reads: 'Don't be scared, I know you'll like it...' - which seemed to hold true for several first-timers (somehow 'virgins' doesn't seem the appropriate word...), Kelvin included, all of whom had such a ball they can't wait for the next one. Me neither. Roll on November...
I'm not entirely sure why last night at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern was the wildest for many a week, and quite possibly the most enjoyable to date, but it undoubtedly was. And having been a little thin on the ground in recent weeks, it was great to have almost the full line-up of usual suspects back in force: Mikey and Kelvin back from Kos and looking impossibly relaxed and tanned, Dan, hyperactive having not come straight from Trade for once but actually having slept, Nathan and Jason, still on a high from Fist (more of which to follow), Byron and Nicholas, Cherie-from-the-BBC and Michael (still gorgeous, still straight - damn...), to name but a few. And undoubtedly a new record set for sheer drunkenness and over-indulgence on a Sunday. Which takes some doing, given the precedents.
I'd definitely lend my support though, to David's suggestion of some kind of loyalty of scheme - the pondering of which has led me to the downright scary realisation that, in any given month, almost 10% of my earnings go directly behind the Vauxhall bar (which, as London bars go, is very reasonably priced). Perhaps they could just set up some kind of direct debit scheme and save us the trouble of handing it all over manually?
Meanwhile Saturday, a riotous gathering at Bar Code, before Kelvin, Phil, Nigel and I piled into a cab down to the aforementioned, near-legendary, South London sleaze fest known as Fist. And a wild and wonderful night indeed - certainly my favourite of the handful of times I've been along. You'd think the whole leather/rubber/dresscode shenanigans would lead to it being purely be a sexual thing (and it's not to say there wasn't plenty of that going on. Apparently...) - but it's interesting how just getting dressed up in something out of the ordinary seems to bring out a real party spirit in all concerned. I guess it is just like a big fancy dress party after all. Hence a packed dancefloor and much hilarity, as well as all the other, ahem, diversions.
The current ad campaign reads: 'Don't be scared, I know you'll like it...' - which seemed to hold true for several first-timers (somehow 'virgins' doesn't seem the appropriate word...), Kelvin included, all of whom had such a ball they can't wait for the next one. Me neither. Roll on November...
Friday, October 12, 2001
Friday. Sunshine. Not much work to do. 4pm already. Evening to be spent curled up on sofa with boyfriend. If I were a cat, I think I'd be making loud purring noises right about now. Shame there's that, y'know, war thing on.
I've always been determined not to moan about stuff on here - in the grand scheme of things, plenty of people have far more important things to worry about than I do. But likewise, I'm sure, dear reader/s (I flatter myself with the plural), you don't need me banging on about just how happy I am today.
So instead, go see some nice people who've linked to me lately: Molly, over at umbrellastand, who has a particularly nice line in rants for almost every occasion, and Leoboy, who's just had exactly the kind of Thursday I'm having today. Except it's Friday. Oh y'know what I mean. I'm outta here.
I've always been determined not to moan about stuff on here - in the grand scheme of things, plenty of people have far more important things to worry about than I do. But likewise, I'm sure, dear reader/s (I flatter myself with the plural), you don't need me banging on about just how happy I am today.
So instead, go see some nice people who've linked to me lately: Molly, over at umbrellastand, who has a particularly nice line in rants for almost every occasion, and Leoboy, who's just had exactly the kind of Thursday I'm having today. Except it's Friday. Oh y'know what I mean. I'm outta here.
Thursday, October 11, 2001
Go to bed Dave, go to bed. You are disturbing the neighbours by singing along, badly, to 'How Do I Live' by Leann Rimes on the radio. You are not Leann Rimes. Which is probably just as well, all things considered. Although you might have got to meet Adam Garcia when you made that video.
Now there's a thought on which to go to bed.
Now there's a thought on which to go to bed.
Top childish gag of the day (you know you want to do this):
1. Go into Microsoft Word on a friend or colleague's computer (when they're not there)
2. From the Tools menu, select Auto-Correct
3. You'll see the option to 'replace' typed words 'with' others, thus automatically correcting them when typed.
4. Enter everyday words they might use, like 'letter' and replace them with things like 'ARSE!'
5. Sit back and snigger when they next write something, and find themselves writing things like: 'Dear John, In response to your ARSE! of 18 September...', and find themselves unable to correct it, because Word will keep changing it back.
Trust me, this is literally seconds of fun.
1. Go into Microsoft Word on a friend or colleague's computer (when they're not there)
2. From the Tools menu, select Auto-Correct
3. You'll see the option to 'replace' typed words 'with' others, thus automatically correcting them when typed.
4. Enter everyday words they might use, like 'letter' and replace them with things like 'ARSE!'
5. Sit back and snigger when they next write something, and find themselves writing things like: 'Dear John, In response to your ARSE! of 18 September...', and find themselves unable to correct it, because Word will keep changing it back.
Trust me, this is literally seconds of fun.
Top new advertising fact of the day:
Normally, when producing a double-page ad for a magazine, it's necessary to leave a space (a 'gutter') down the middle, to allow for the bit you won't be able to see once it's stapled together. However, if for some reason you don't want the gutter, you simply need to ask for a 'Butt Job'.
Which comes easier to some than others.
Normally, when producing a double-page ad for a magazine, it's necessary to leave a space (a 'gutter') down the middle, to allow for the bit you won't be able to see once it's stapled together. However, if for some reason you don't want the gutter, you simply need to ask for a 'Butt Job'.
Which comes easier to some than others.
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