Man Of The Internet

Finally, the festive period is finally over and we can all return to a sense of normality without having that fat man dressed in red who has a thing for breaking in to houses via the least effective method possible printed on absolutely everything we buy this time of year. But wait what is that hanging out in the back of the cupboard hanging out with that pot of yeast you were so going to make break with a year or two ago. Hang on a second that is bloody full-unopened box of mince pies! I had a quieter Christmas this year because if for some reason you are not aware there is still a pandemic floating around with a new variant to share for all! For some reason, which I still cannot understand, I managed to buy enough food to feed double whom we are hosting on the big day. It seems what this was especially the case with those little pastry covered delights. In a lack of judgment, I have managed to collect way too many packets while totally forgetting that my guests are not all that f...

All must bow down before I, your new king, the onion king! After many hours working in the garden this Spring I finally decided that I wanted to be that one guy that grows his own veg in the back garden. Taking inspiration from the soft voice of Monty Don on the BBC’s Gardener’s World and those perfectly maintained designer looking veg patches on Instagram this winter I thought yep that’s what I’m going to do. I BE VEG MAN NOW. So in the tail end of winter I brought out the spade and broke ground. When I say broke ground I really mean I broke myself, digging semi frozen ground is not as easy as I thought it would be. There I was thinking that all soil was loose fluffy stuff not the mega compacted devil soil which has never been touched by us or the previous owners of this house or the for what I have now determined the whole human history! But there is good news to come out of all this hardship, my sore back and after copious amount of swearing that would make even a gathering sail...

Just last week I had to work a few hours longer than normal just to cover and out of hours event. The thought of coming home and cooking something when I had been on my feet for a stupid amount of hours became less and less appealing the closer I drove home. I realised directly in route back home I would be passing a good old fish and chip shop only five minutes away from home, felling super lazy it was the only option available to be as I had completely discounted the option of cooking for myself, it was just far too much effort. To cut a long story short, I got it and went home. After unwrapping the fried goodness, I tucked and devoured almost half in record time, that’s when the first pangs of regret and the phrase that we all say to ourselves, “I’m never having this again” and another “I’ll leave this a while before I having this again” both of these being complete lies that which we tell ourselves as in some effort to be able to reassure that what we have just done is completely...