Thursday, December 31, 2009


Call my bluff

I don't cook for the family that often. When I do, the last thing I like to have is other family members in the kitchen. More specifically, Joe and the dad, who are an insufferable pair of know-it-alls and guaranteed, if allowed to do so, to start bending my ear about what I should be doing.

Yesterday, Joe and the dad came round for casserole. The mum picked both of them up from their respective accommodation and brought them back to 112. Then all three of them immediately gravitated to the kitchen while I was in the latter stages of preparing the feast.

I gnashed my teeth.

"There's quite a lot of people in here, all of a sudden," I said.

The mum took this as her cue and made herself scarce. The other two remained, hovering.

"Yes, you two can bugger off as well," I said, perhaps a little more succinctly.

Out they went. The dad was gone for fully 30 seconds before he came back in on some pretext.

"I will gut you like a fish," I told him, brandishing a wooden spoon to add emphasis to my threat.

"You've never gutted a fish in your life," he scoffed.

"Well then," I said. "You may presume that I shall make a very messy job of it."

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Black Wednesday

I awoke to find the heating had gone off. This is not unusual: my pillow rests against the trip switch in the back bedroom and I do tend to flick it on and off with my nocturnal headbanging. Call it poor roomscaping if you will.

I went to turn it back on. Nothing happened.

The mum announced we had a power cut and she was off to Cirencester. If you think this a bit extreme, I should point out that she had a prior engagement.

She suggested I might like to go to Wetherspoon's for breakfast. I said, rather pointedly, that I'd sooner empty the salt cellar over my walking boots and try to bite through them.

She departed soon after.

A phonecall came from the brother while I was buggering around under the stairs, checking the fusebox. He was ill and wished me to go shopping for him.

I got in the car and started the engine. The windows fogged up.

I wound down my window. It made a wicked clunk! noise and dropped away at a 45 degree angle.

I tried to wind it back up. It made a tortured sound that suggested the glass might shatter and lacerate everything north of my shoulders.

I left the car at the garage and went shopping on foot.

A new window motor, it turns out, will cost £200 and take two weeks to deliver.

It is Black Wednesday and nothing is as it should be. If I have a worse Wednesday this week, I shall be very surprised.


Monday, December 28, 2009


"Put the kettle on, Errol"

Joe showed me this the other night - I ended up laughing so hard that I had to pause it to recover.


Sunday, December 27, 2009


Whiskey critique

McNulty: Jameson's. please.

Bartender: Bushmill's alright?

McNulty: Bushmill's? That's Protestant whiskey.

-The Wire

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Fun for all the family

The stakes were high; the game was Articulate.

JOE: Erm... planning ahead...

ME: Arranging?

JOE: No. Like, with a murder.

ME: Premeditating?

JOE: Good job. Right. (Grabs next card). Oh bollocks... what you do just before unloading your junk.

(Dissolves into laughter. Other players are unfamiliar with this particular term for ejaculation, which I myself invented. I make several obscenely biological suggestions. No dice. Our time runs out)

JOE (wiping away tears): Unlucky, Dan - the answer was 'withdrawing'.

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Friday, December 25, 2009


Ho dear



Xmas decs!

Christmas decorations!

What did Adam say the day before Christmas?

It's Christmas, Eve!

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Wednesday, December 23, 2009


More of Dan in the media

Finally, the news that humanity has been waiting for: a nutritionist has mixed a yuletide cocktail that could ward off hangover symptoms. "Consuming alcohol results in the production of 'free radicals', which are highly reactive configurations of molecules," says cocktail creator and superfood specialist Gurpareet Bains. "People who drink a lot of alcohol often suffer a hangover because of massive free radical-induced cellular damage."

The hangover-destroying Xmas cocktail

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Wednesday, December 16, 2009



Unfortunately, with portfolio deadlines coming up, I've had to devote some time for writing on other sites.

So, here's an article on the crash weight-loss diet I went on for the sake of, er, writing an article about it.


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Sunday, December 06, 2009


The elements mixed in me

The mum and I are walking up the road. A bloke coming the other way is talking intently into his phone.

As he passes us, he announces: "Listen, you lay a finger on your mother again and I'll come down there and kick the shit out of you."

My mother bursts into raucous laughter at this. I wish myself invisible.


"Indeed, ancient flower," says the dad, apropos of nothing.

Startled, I glance over at where he is sitting, newspaper in hand, pen at the ready. Realisation dawns.

"How many letters?" I ask.

He looks at me, perplexed.

"I'm doing the sudoku."

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