A strange thing, why cats love bags so much. Anyway there is a cat in a bag ...
Soon it will come out!
Sunday 23 December 2007
Wednesday 3 October 2007
Burning chilli sparks terror fear
"A pot of burning chilli sparked fears of a biological terror attack in central London."
This is one of the lead stories in the UK today, I picked it up via the BBC. (And as a side note learned the English spell chili with an extra L -- we didn't have chilies growing up nor pasta, rice or a lot of other things actually.)
The story goes that a Thai restaurant was preparing Nam Prik Pao (should I post the recipe like my colleague in the League of SuperFriends?) and the smell of cooking chilies drove people to call 999 (911 for my American readers) and the area was sealed off.
My mother-in-law does this at home (to make Mexican food) and all the kids run from the house choking, coughing with their eyes streaming with tears. So I understand the reaction of those poor Brits who were taken out by the Nam Prik Pao, but it seems a little extreme to call out the terror cops.
Nam Prik Pao Recipe
Heat garlic and shallots in oil and remove to a bowl
Place red chillies in the pan with some oil and fry until they go dark in colour. Then set aside
Mix shrimp paste with the rest of the ingredients and pound in a mortar and pestle
Return the mixture to the heat until it becomes a thick dark coloured paste
And, yes, I'm back from India-Singapore-Taipei. Jet lag is nipping at my heels and I'm still getting vertigo from all the zooming around. My Singapore layover was early in the morning so I was unable to get a Singapore Sling at Raffles but I did wander through street food eating strange fried things often on a stick (octopus balls win the Food Insanity award).
This is one of the lead stories in the UK today, I picked it up via the BBC. (And as a side note learned the English spell chili with an extra L -- we didn't have chilies growing up nor pasta, rice or a lot of other things actually.)
The story goes that a Thai restaurant was preparing Nam Prik Pao (should I post the recipe like my colleague in the League of SuperFriends?) and the smell of cooking chilies drove people to call 999 (911 for my American readers) and the area was sealed off.
My mother-in-law does this at home (to make Mexican food) and all the kids run from the house choking, coughing with their eyes streaming with tears. So I understand the reaction of those poor Brits who were taken out by the Nam Prik Pao, but it seems a little extreme to call out the terror cops.
Nam Prik Pao Recipe
Heat garlic and shallots in oil and remove to a bowl
Place red chillies in the pan with some oil and fry until they go dark in colour. Then set aside
Mix shrimp paste with the rest of the ingredients and pound in a mortar and pestle
Return the mixture to the heat until it becomes a thick dark coloured paste
And, yes, I'm back from India-Singapore-Taipei. Jet lag is nipping at my heels and I'm still getting vertigo from all the zooming around. My Singapore layover was early in the morning so I was unable to get a Singapore Sling at Raffles but I did wander through street food eating strange fried things often on a stick (octopus balls win the Food Insanity award).
Tuesday 25 September 2007
Moving House ...
Guess who has got a domain? That's right, adoring fans, me!
Come visit La Bog Part Deux at http://whosaprettyboythen.com/.
I suspect this update will inconvenience no one at all.
Come visit La Bog Part Deux at http://whosaprettyboythen.com/.
I suspect this update will inconvenience no one at all.
Monday 24 September 2007
Swimming Elephants
It's a dry day during the monsoon.
No, it hasn't stopped raining but, because Ganesh is going for a swim (find out about Mr.Elephanthead ), we can't buy alcohol in town today or tomorrow. Basically for the last ten days there have been idols of Ganesh everywhere, now they are being taken to the lake accompanied by fireworks and drums and then ceremonially lowered into the brakish and posionous waters. Eyewitness reports say the statues bubble and fizz as they go down.
And, yes, the reason that the lake is poisonous is the number of idols containing heavy metals and toxis paints that are placed into it every year.
My choice tomorrow is to drive 3 miles taking several hours to see all this and risk terrorist bombs (have I mentioned India is in open civil war right now) or to drink my reserve booze while cursing puritanical Hindus.
Choices, choices.
No, it hasn't stopped raining but, because Ganesh is going for a swim (find out about Mr.Elephanthead ), we can't buy alcohol in town today or tomorrow. Basically for the last ten days there have been idols of Ganesh everywhere, now they are being taken to the lake accompanied by fireworks and drums and then ceremonially lowered into the brakish and posionous waters. Eyewitness reports say the statues bubble and fizz as they go down.
And, yes, the reason that the lake is poisonous is the number of idols containing heavy metals and toxis paints that are placed into it every year.
My choice tomorrow is to drive 3 miles taking several hours to see all this and risk terrorist bombs (have I mentioned India is in open civil war right now) or to drink my reserve booze while cursing puritanical Hindus.
Choices, choices.
Wednesday 18 July 2007
Slideways
Tonight was odd. I know India is strange to me anyway but tonight felt sideways, the sort of dislocation you get at the top floor of an old bookshop where the roofs of the city look different, or the empty docks in London just behind St.Pauls where the river seems to travel elsewhere.
I was leaving work and turned up the side street and walking towards me was the shadow of a man with fire burning on his head. As w eapproached one another I saw it was a normal man and that he had a flat wicker tray balanced on his head. On that tray was a burning oil lamp and loaves of bread. I nodded at him and he, of course, did not nod back. So I walked on.
The main road was of roiling clouds of smoke. I walked past the new car lot and there was a huge bonfire inside it - flames leaping up into the sky. But the smoke wwasn't coming from there it was blowing down the street.
I kept walking and reached home with no problems. No smell of smoke in the air. I asked the Missus and she said she had seen no smoke or fires on the streets.
Odd.
If I had followed the chap with the burning lamp where would I have ended up? My 20-year old self would have been on him like a greyhound.
I was leaving work and turned up the side street and walking towards me was the shadow of a man with fire burning on his head. As w eapproached one another I saw it was a normal man and that he had a flat wicker tray balanced on his head. On that tray was a burning oil lamp and loaves of bread. I nodded at him and he, of course, did not nod back. So I walked on.
The main road was of roiling clouds of smoke. I walked past the new car lot and there was a huge bonfire inside it - flames leaping up into the sky. But the smoke wwasn't coming from there it was blowing down the street.
I kept walking and reached home with no problems. No smell of smoke in the air. I asked the Missus and she said she had seen no smoke or fires on the streets.
Odd.
If I had followed the chap with the burning lamp where would I have ended up? My 20-year old self would have been on him like a greyhound.
Monday 16 July 2007
It Must Be Mine!
Now I'm certain that my adoring fans (all four of you?) have been wondering what could possibly wake me from my torpor and encourage me to blog more. 'Would it be monkeys?' you asked each other. 'Could he be preparing an essay explaining how to fight a time war?'
No. It is this and this alone that demands my, and now your, attention:
There is, I believe, more product at this site and now my life is very nearly complete. For, when I return from India and arrive in blessed America again, will I seek out a burger, decent scotch or a clean bog?
No friends, I will seek out the bacon chocolate bar.
And I will follow their carefully constructed instructions when I do so:
See... first, there should be a glossy shine to the chocolate bar, this shows a good temper; rather, a tight bond between the cocoa butter and the cocoa mass.
Smell... rub your thumb on the chocolate to help release the aromas. Inhale the chocolate and ingredient notes deeply through your nose. Can you feel it?
Snap... quality chocolate should always be dry to the touch. Break the bar into two pieces.
Hear a crisp, ringing snap, which indicates a well-tempered bar of chocolate.
Taste... place the chocolate on your tongue and press it to the roof of your mouth. Within thirty seconds, the chocolate should slowly begin to melt around your tongue. The taste should not be evanescent; it should have a long, lingering finish.
Feel... recognize the life in your body as you… benefit from the anti-oxidants in chocolate, ride the natural high of chillies, boost your immune system with some of the natural ingredients.
Each bar brings its own sensations and benefits. Notice how spicy bars don’t hit you until after you have swallowed.
Thursday 21 June 2007
If I were a gambling man ...
I took a gamble today ... instead of walking up to the roof to have lunch with everyone else I wandered out into the street.
There I found a chap and his son running a grilled corn stand. By stand I, of course, mean a hand-cart piled high with corn and by grilling I mean an old tire with the hubcap reversed to form a bowl and the corn placed directly into a bed of charcoal. The corn is cooked up and then rubbed with lemon and salt. Very delicious and quite strange to be the only white guy on the street (ever on this trip) kicking back and eating street food. They were very nice and wrapped the corn in the husks so I wouldn't get my hand dirty as I ate it.
So the gamble is ... was this safe? Am I about to go down with some horrible stomach upset? Cast your votes ladies and germs.
In addition - yes there's more - there was a gang of transvestite beggars accosting the general area. (This is a thing over here: A transvestite caste connected to wedding ceremonies; have a link who are forced to beg.) Very odd. Not very effective begging since the only English they knew was "Money! Money!" No offense India, but the crackheads in Hollywood have better technique.
There I found a chap and his son running a grilled corn stand. By stand I, of course, mean a hand-cart piled high with corn and by grilling I mean an old tire with the hubcap reversed to form a bowl and the corn placed directly into a bed of charcoal. The corn is cooked up and then rubbed with lemon and salt. Very delicious and quite strange to be the only white guy on the street (ever on this trip) kicking back and eating street food. They were very nice and wrapped the corn in the husks so I wouldn't get my hand dirty as I ate it.
So the gamble is ... was this safe? Am I about to go down with some horrible stomach upset? Cast your votes ladies and germs.
In addition - yes there's more - there was a gang of transvestite beggars accosting the general area. (This is a thing over here: A transvestite caste connected to wedding ceremonies; have a link who are forced to beg.) Very odd. Not very effective begging since the only English they knew was "Money! Money!" No offense India, but the crackheads in Hollywood have better technique.
Monday 18 June 2007
Tyger, Tyger burning bright
My first post is an advert. How weak is that?
However given my prediliction for games, media pop and the rest of it it does make sense.
The follow-up question would have to be how do I turn this daemon creator into the character generation system of a roleplaying game?
The secodn question would be: Do I get to play either Nicole Kidman or an armoured Polar Bear in the inevitable videogame adaptation?
However given my prediliction for games, media pop and the rest of it it does make sense.
The follow-up question would have to be how do I turn this daemon creator into the character generation system of a roleplaying game?
The secodn question would be: Do I get to play either Nicole Kidman or an armoured Polar Bear in the inevitable videogame adaptation?
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