Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I Am A Walrus

So many days, too many meals, nothing to do but lay around like beached sea creatures, moaning mourntively*.

In desperation, I took an early night. I was too eaten up, drunk out and done in.

I woke in slight distress shortly after 1am. A harrowing dream of gravy and potatoes. It had been almost half a day after all. It was survival instinct that forced me down the stairs, into the cold, desolate kitchen. I reached for the hob and turned. Something clicked. I tried again. Same click. No spark. The fuel injection button was stuck, stuck fast with congealed gravy, much like my intestines. I considered it for a moment. Then decided to worry about it another day, much like my intestines, arteries and anything else from the neck down. I switched to the seldom-used ring at the back.

Minutes later I had a plate of Nigella's bread sauce-scented gratinaceaous-period potato and a couple of fossilised sausages warmed with gloopy jus before me. I entered the living room, dark, dank. The TV would not respond. I pressed the remote, all three of them. The same message beamed back to me. AV. That's what happens when teenage boys come back from University carrying X-Box 360s.

Deterred, but not yet defeated or eated, I returned to the kitchen and sat on the floor with my memories. A cornflake - I've not had any of those since the time we walked the Three Peaks. A shrivelled pea - that must have been Jack's re-enactment of Captain Corelli. A quid. I pocketed it and flicked on the wall-mounted television. A midget was performing YMCA. I looked again. It was a repeat for the Deaf.

I watched soundlessly, apart from the regular clicking of my jaw that has never been the same since the Edinburgh Rock incident, ajaw, between chews. Hundreds of walruses left the sea. They slowly made their way up the beach, exhausted, triumphant.

I silently thanked my parents for choosing a good dentist all those years ago as I made my cumberous** way back up the steep stairs.

* not sure if this the correct spelling, or even a word. If not, it is a Cherryism.

** and another

Monday, December 22, 2008

Redundancy Renaissance

At exactly the same moment my move into the Probate Department was announced, the temperature warmed up.

I need cold snaps, flu epidemics, aluminium pan purchasers (did they prove the link to Alzheimer's? I forget).

I expect an announcement that they've found a cure for Cancer any minute now.

If you see a hearse being chased, wave at me.

Favourite Quote of the Term

" I'm struggling to budget, Mum. I can cope with potatoes and vegetables. But isn't Steak expensive"

I couldn't respond. I was too busy looking for bean recipes.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Clement Climbs

He'd had a bad journey. Stuck in stationary traffic for four hours, hungry and grumpy, it was my job to ensure all Sir Clement Freud's needs were met. I ushered him into the Green Room where an assortment of posh sandwiches awaited, just as his manager had ordered.

" I don't eat bread. Wheat-intolerant." He disdainfully dismissed my offer to fetch an alternative from Tesco. He wanted a mirror and Listerine. I had neither as they hadn't appeared on his Rider.He rejected a Trebor mint. I had to think fast.

" We share a birthday." Gold. A brief discussion centring around Shirley MacLaine and Barbra Streisand and we were off. He looked at me for the first time, really seeing me.

" Are you married?" No.

"Single?" Smile and nod, vigorously.

" I have a car and a driver outside. Would you like to come to London for the weekend?" Nervous giggle. Was he joking?

During the interval I obediantly sat beside him transcribing questions from the audience into legible script whilst he tucked into the fresh fruit salad that was the only thing available without gluten, wheat, nuts or other potential peer poisons.

" Watermelon is the strongest aphrodisiac known to man. Far more effective than Viagra. Do you think I should have another helping?"

I looked him in the eye, didn't flinch at the wink and calmly declared that he'd had enough.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Turnip Tinsel and Tears

I went bowling. And won a turnip.

Not just any turnip. Possibly the biggest turnip in the world. Certainly as big as the bowling ball I consistently guttered. Thinking about it, I'd have had more success if I'd bowled the turnip.

It's going to feed me for Christmas.

I shall start with Roast Turnip and all the trimmings. Cold turnip salad, turnip stew, curried turnip, turnip and squeak, turnip sandwiches and turnip soup.
Turnip is the new turkey.
Turkey is redundant, which coincidentally, am I. Just as well I've got root vegetable experience.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Favourite Quote of the Week

Me to Biker: I'm sorry. I'm not very experienced in the Trouser Department.