Heston Bloomin’eck is to put a new dish on the menu.
Nothing special there I hear you say, perhaps not. The aim of the creator of this burger is that it appears NO different to any other burger you might purchase.
If he gets it right the only difference will be when l’addition drops onto the table with a thud. £207,000 quid please.
This post was initiated as a result of a recent one by Araminta commenting on the use (or misuse) by Tesco of a “back to work” program in Britain. It reflects only one person’s experience of the system employed here and I make no claim that such system is more effective than those used elsewhere, however it is different.
The Pogey, the Dole, or as my old dad used to say the Parish. “If you don’t watch out son you’ll be on the Parish” that’s how old he was, and back then that’s who supported you, if anyone did, the charity of the parish.
I was on the parish once, in the US, it was 1998, I was 54 and it was the middle of winter. The company I had been working for since 1984 declared bankruptcy, just like that, in February. The whole operation, about two hundred people, was closed down and a trustee brought in to liquidate the assets. There was no severance pay or golden, silver, tin or lead handshakes, no pensions or settlements just pay-to-date and goodbye. Continue reading “The Pogey”
A man starts his new job at the zoo and is given three tasks. Continue reading “Pure corn”
The tragic accident reported in today’s papers of the coach carrying British children and accompanying adults going off the motorway stirred memories of school trips I have been involved in. Every such accident does and can even lead to nightmares.
I remember leading a trip to Paris where we travelled by coach. I suppose we should have realised at the start, when the driver complained mournfully that he wasn’t driving his “own motor”, that there might be problems. The coach he usually drove was off the road for repairs. We arrived safely at our hostel and the driver took the coach off to a safe car park. The following day he drove us into the centre of Paris, we arranged a pick-up point and set off to show the pupils Paris. Each adult was responsible for a small group of pupils, as is normal. It wasn’t the driver’s fault that when we got to the Eiffel Tower, one of my colleagues broke down in tears, begging me not to make her go up the tower. Just what you need – one adult short on the highest monument in Paris! The following day we set off to visit the castle at Rambouillet, because we knew Versailles was closed for repairs. The driver, still reminding us that this was not his “own motor”, insisted he knew the route I wanted him to take. When we passed the exit for Rambouillet and headed off towards Rouen, it took a lot of argument to persuade him we were on the wrong road and must turn round. Continue reading “School trips”
A. Did you know that the word “race car” spelled backward still spells “race car”?
Continue reading “Spelling”
HT Theo Spark
The body of this post has been copied to a safe place pending a decision by Boadicea. It will be reinstated and re-opened for comments if, and when, she concludes that it is appropriate material for the Chariot. Bearsy.
Having read the full text of this post, I have decided that it will not be published.
I find the article in The Spectator offensive. I fail to see how ‘Indigenous Australians’ behaved in the 1920s (long before most had contact with European habits) has any relevance to the lazy ‘Indigenous British’ who fail to toilet train their children, despite being exposed to the wonders of the ‘Water Closet’ for several generations.
My apologies for the chequered history of this post – but I am rather busy on other matters.
I have re-opened the post for comments.
Boadicea
I received this as a slide show recently, found it on the internet here (thanks Jorge) and thought that I’d share.
By the way, those arrows in the bottom right corner give you a full screen view!
My favourites are 39 and 47.
Boadicea's Chariot 
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