Sir Elton, David and Baby Zach

On my most recent visit to my father the subject of Sir Elton, his partner and their baby came up. I don’t approve he does, we left it that.

It must have been E.S.P. my favourite columnist wrote a column on the exact same subject this weekend, it’s a quiet day on here so I reproduce it for your entertainment / amusement.

An open letter to Sir Elton John

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Dear Elton, I am writing on behalf of the South African government to congratulate you on the birth of your bouncing baby boy, Zachary George Michael Jackson Canaan Banana Chastity Bono Furniture-John.

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Does he have your eyes? I hope not. Please don’t be offended. You have lovely eyes. They bring out your teeth. But you do wear glasses Continue reading “Sir Elton, David and Baby Zach”

Surprise! Oh. Er….

Things go wrong, I know. Nobody’s perfect are they? But it’s annoying when things go wrong that actually, you could usually do blindfolded.

I’m talking cooking. I completely take it for granted now after 30 odd years of cooking that I don’t need to think twice about whipping up a sponge, a pavlova, a casserole, a roast, a wicked crumble, a unique bread and butter pud, and, recently, reasonably yummy cheesecake. Continue reading “Surprise! Oh. Er….”

Pre-results reportage

I have been intermittently listening to snippets of radio today between home visits and as usual I heard the hype building.

Tomorrow we have to go to school, Techie and I – but just for one AS result and one maths paper result, as the main bulk of Techie’s results are coming out on Tuesday next week. Continue reading “Pre-results reportage”

Sunday Lunch

I wonder who came up with the idea that Sunday isn’t Sunday without a full roast for lunch.

It’s Sunday! Day of rest! So let’s spend half of it preparing a huge meal that we don’t really need, and the other half dealing with the unholy amount of washing up that such a meal generates.

Let’s. Not.

Spousal unit does the roast, and then floops about in ostentatious exhaustion. That effing roast would need way more trimmings to match up to the twenty other meals I cook during the week, mate.

/minirant