For Your Viewing Pleasure

  

Don't you just love a street brawl? 

Yes, that is a young Janice from Benidorm.

How Northern, but can you still eat the chips?

Taking the Strain

Take any bog standard yoghurt, the cheaper the better and turn it into a thick luxury Greek yoghurt that could rival Fage (pronounced fa-yeh if you're that way inclined), I used Lancashire Farm I paid £1.15 for 1kg from Herons.

I chose the fat free one deliberately, knowing it'll be like piss.

Take a muslin cloth or if you're cheap like me, use a double layer dish cloth, clean of course straight out of it's packet and place it inside a sieve, tip the yoghurt into the cloth lined sieve and rest it on a bowl large enough to allow the yoghurt to drain and then just leave it in the fridge over night.

In the morning you'll have yoghurt precum! Doesn't it look vile? It looks yellow in the photograph but it was green, proves that the cows are grass fed.

 

The end result, so thick you can cut it with a knife. 

As Plain as a Digestive Biscuit

My morning cup of tea went missing this morning, it's true. Yorkshire tea, precisely three minutes seeped, gone! I hunted high and low for it, with no joy I even convinced myself that the house is haunted, a ghost with a penchant for tea, the thieving spectral bastard. I thought to myself what would the late Clodagh Rodgers have done in a situation like this then I remembered a poem about Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. Something's lost and can't be found please St Anthony look around, still no joy. I had a dental appointment to attend, I left the maid at home mowing the grass, after my check up I decided to do a bit of shopping on the high street and then I popped into a cafe for a toasted tea-cake and a diet coke.

I love people watching, it didn't take me long to scan the room and focus my beady eye on someone, a big lass with a bow in her hair, 

See the man in the distance, when she upped and left, he kept giving me the glad eye! Time to leave!

I didn't see what she looked like from the front until she got up to pay, I was expecting her to have a septum piercing or a tattooed neck, something to give her an edgy look, but there was nothing, she wore a blue pleated skirt to match the bow in her hair, white socks and a pair of plain black court shoes, as she walked past my table a little acid reflux crept into my throat causing a burning sensation. I blamed the diet coke. I've seen make-up free women before, of course, so I wasn't totally catatonic with shock when I saw her face, however, seeing someone so ordinary, a genuine plain Jane unsettled me somewhat. I'm sad to say it but looking like that, she is destined to be a spinster. After finishing my tea-cake and looking round to see who else I could inwardly slag off I received a message from Carmen with an attached picture, she had found my cup of tea!

Homemade Bounty Bars

What can you make with half a packet of desiccated coconut that's been hidden in the depths of the food cupboard for ages and is nearing it best before date? Make bounty bars of course. I made the mistake of plumping up the coconut by soaking it in milk for about an hour, it fell apart when I tried to form mounds, so I put the mush in a muslin cloth* gathered in the edges and squeezed the milk out of it, that did the trick, I added a few chopped glace cherries, bought during the reign of Queen Elizabeth II and enough condensed milk to sweeten and bind it all together. I hadn't any chocolate to coat them with so I sacrificed Carmen's Easter egg †, a half eaten Lindt monstrosity I smashed the remainder of it to bits and melted it in the microwave. Made 4.

Yes, that really is condensed milk.

A culinary triumph, served on a Poole pottery plate, a little hint as to where I'll be moving too.

* It was actually a dish cloth, a clean one of course.

† I have since bought her a replacement Easter egg, it cost a staggering £12 from Meg Morrison's, bleeding rob dogs.

Hot Cross Buns and Dog Shit

If you find yourself in Gail's Bakery in Stratford Upon Avon, fancying one of their over priced hot cross buns, make sure you get there at a reasonable time, because they 'stop toasting' after 3pm! 

If I hear someone say something noteworthy I try to remember it or better still make a note of it on my iphone. I overhead a portly man in a tweed jacket talking to his wife about canine defecation habits, this is in the same cafe where Carmen was tucking into a hot cross bun with gusto, I was eavesdropping shamelessly on the couple, he was telling her that dogs only shit facing North or South, never East or West, that why you often see them spin around and around they are finding their magnetic bearings, before dropping their foulage. I don't know if this is true or not, perhaps Scarlet or MrDevice could devote themselves to the study of canine jobbie orientation, armed with a compass and some dog biscuits I for one would be very interested in their findings.

Just look at the contented look on his face.

Greetings From Benidorm

Going Dutch fashion wise.

They were at it everyday morning, weather permitting.

Indoor market cafe where Carmen was served a bacon and tomato sandwich. Hilda Ogden had a similar muriel in her living room, just saying. 

Back home tomorrow

 

It's 5pm Twinkle Time!

 

 

Mitzi's Muff

I also won this glass cat, many years ago on the Celebrity Eclipse.

I received an email last week from the Postcode lottery congratulating me on winning a prize. Oh joy of joys, confetti and streamers erupted in my mind, my euphoria soon turned to despair when I discovered it wasn't a life changing amount of cash at all but an actual gift, the sort you see in a seaside bingo parlour, I clicked the button inviting me to browse their selection of prizes, there was a lot to choose from including L'occitane products, 'sea socks' whatever they are, headphones for drowning out the maid's goings-on, hairdryers, the list was endless I pondered my options and after careful consideration I opted for a rechargeable, cordless, hot water bottle RRP £14.99. 

Carry on Cruising

Another boring day at sea with nothing to do.

Stop the boat I want to get off! Yes, that's Benidorm you see in the distance, most ot it anyway, I was too excited to wait for the full vista. I'm enjoying the cruise but I'd be much happier if they dropped me off here for a couple of weeks. 

My first taste of Tia Maria I wasnt sure what mixer you had with it, if any, so I drank it neat with ice. Yes that is a lager the maid is drinking "Reg Varney had one of those in Holiday on the Buses".

   

This is how the folk of Cartagena like to entertain themselves. 

More carry on cruising to come.

 

After losing 17 lbs with a little help from saxender, my maid of all work Carmen, felt confident enough to pose for this lovely photograph.

Greetings From Benidorm

 

Dr Who at 90!

 

For Your Viewing Pleasure

Found on the back of a public toilet door in Beverley (the one next to the florist). I hate having to use a public toilet, but needs must when the devil drives. I only popped in to spend a penny. There was a wiry old man in there blatantly masturbating at the urinal and without shame I clutched my imaginary pearls in horror and fled to the cubicle and locked the door and was greeted with this. 

Click to enlarge

 

Home and a Weymouth

See the table occupied by a man and a woman on the right, they're participating in a savage eating challenge!

When breaking in a new cafe or a restaurant I like to carry out a ritual, I whip my phone out and pretend I'm taking a photo of the scenery or if there isn't a view to admire I'll take a snap of my maid, my real focus is on the nearby tables, zooming in on peoples plates to see what the food looks like and to see if anyone is holding their knife like a pen so I can give them a disapproving look. Carmen calls me a culinary voyeur, my mother used to call me a nosy bastard. 

Here I am sitting demurly, looking out to sea, pondering life's questions such as: Why don't we eat sea gulls? What would happen if a cow isn't milked and why do hotel kettles take ages to boil? And other thought provoking questions that pop up randomly inside my head.

 

Mitzi, where are you? I hear your cries of distress, I'm here, taking in the delights of Stratford-upon-Avon. Not to be confused with Stratford in London (you only make that mistake once).

Just look at that derelict house, set in aspic, probably for the American and Japanese tourists to gawp at. I say knock it down and build an Aldi or a much needed Home Bargains, much more suitable for a busy shopping street in my opinion.