Come on chicken

I discovered a really simple recipe from the Sainsbury's magazine (this month's I believe) for Chicken Satay. Made it once before and nearly wet my pants with the lushness of it. Just had it, with the sauce, which contains coconut milk, peanut butter, Thai chilli sauce and a shallot. With a salad with rose balsamic vinegar, and garlic bread (the last of the packets from yesterday).

Am now debating on whether to stock up on some wine or beer for the football tonight that I just discovered was on.

Big feast for a big hunger

Today my brother has come with his wife. So of course I have to show off, especially as there is no football on to distract me. Started at 3.30 this afternoon and still cooking. West Indian lamb casserole, with Jamaican rice and peas (done the correct and fancy way, with fresh thyme, spring onions, coconut cream and black eyed peas for a change). I have also done Kentucky (not fried) chicken, corn on the cob, and garlic bread (okay hands up I picked them up at Bejams) and I am still baking a gingerbread cake which we will devour with custard (yep, from a tin).

I think with this menu, I am allowed to have the Bejam bread and the Ambrosia custard aren't I?

She punches her fist in the air shouting...YES!

Nice 2 meet u l-Nite.However don't wish 2 take it any further. (me neither) No chemistry 4 me. (ditto). And not on ure wave length! (somehow I think you got THAT right). Sorry (definitely not me mate, more like, nice one!).

What does it all mean?

Ok.There was a moment of madness. Time now: 2.09, yes, in the morning. Shazza has just left. I think she came round due to the nationwide feeling of defeat that happened tonight with the football. Let's not go there. I know about all the rules about meeting someone on the first date and how you are not to meet them IN your house. However I am not conventional and yes, I like to take risks. Okay not with my life. But still risks. She came round. When I mentioned in a previous entry about bag over the head, this is what EXACTLY what I thought when she turned up at my front door. I had warned her that I had Eve and there was no way that she was "coming round for coffee", when blood was still pouring out through my nether regions. She came round regardless.

I don't know. You know what it's like when you drink alcohol (especially to drown the odd sorrow now and again), suddenly images (including people) become beautiful. I tried to 'undrunk' myself. To bring back the ugliness that I knew existed in this face. It didn't happen. Maybe I am being nice. She says she will see me tomorrow. I have the feeling we won't. And when this happens..I think that I will actually be glad. Otherwise she will become another one of those women who "I wish I hadn't".

Only tomorrow knows.

Maybe there's a witch out there for me?

Got an interesting SMS tonight (from a witch that I met at The Shack). The Witch says that she wants to see me. (By the way she is a good one, not an evil one). She says I am to come to The Shack in Worthing tomorrow and hang with her. I don't know where this woman stands, except that she freaked me out with her high perceptions of life and, particularly, of me. I am not a woman who is easily read. I had to SMS back and state that no can do tomorrow. Saturday would be better. (I can heal my hangover better on a weekend than in the week).

Let's see.

The Shack in Worthing is not called that. It's called something else. I think my nickname for it is better, or rather, stays in my mind better. It's the one and only Jamaican Bar in Worthing. The fact there is one at all is way beyond me. But necessary. For me.

Stalk me why don't ya!

I read somewhere yesterday that we, as human beings, should expect to be stalked at least once in our lives.

I have been stalked twice so far.

One was a butch bulldyke.

The other was just butch.

And damn ugly.

Brrrrrrrr.

Smells like hash brown

Shazza sent me an SMS last night.

'How was your chips, were they as good as my lips?'

Just what am I supposed to answer to that?

I didn't even have chips last night.

Hiccup, cough, cough

Can't believe that Rooney is playing like a mental superstar freak footballer and actually scoring goals for England. Scholes dry spell is over. England are laughing and so should France. Even though both are through, am not feeling that confident or comfortable about it. One of my two bets to win outright are now out. Meaning Croatia. All I have left is Sweden to win it.

Thing is, I think I need to do a rush bet for England to actually win it. Somehow, that just doesn't feel right for some reason. ThIngs like waste of money spring to mind.

Chicken Run

Just received an SMS stating Shazza can't make our date today:-( She will call later in the week to re-arrange. The suspense is going to kill me just that little bit longer then. She doesn't know what I look like and vice versa. Images of nice-bod-shame-about-the-face, swirl around in my head, and yeah, scare me.

Having a roast chicken tonight, stuffed with lemons, freshly picked basil and garlic with a crisp green salad. Just perfect to go along with England v Croatia tonight.

Last night I won another bet on Russia v Greece.

Tonight's game is far too risky, so not betting as the game could go either way I believe.

Fingers crossed.
Legs crossed.
Neck in a twist.

Reasons to be cheerful Part 1

Spoke to Shazza last night for about an hour. Blond. 5'6. Slim. 38DD.

Nuff said.

Birds of a feather

One drunken night, a couple of months ago, I put an ad on 'somewhere out there', on the prowl for bisexual girls. I have no idea where it is, as when I ask some girls where they saw the ad, there appears to be a variety of sources. So the women come from far and wide.

Finally last night I received a voice message from a woman who lives in this same fair town as myself and says that we should meet for coffee;-) There are two problems to this offer.

1 I have never ever met a woman for 'just' coffee. Most of the time it ends in sex and/or the very least a right good snog.

2 Her name is Sharon.

Hmmm.

Let's see.

Dutch Light, Smug Sunday

Oh what glee and what delight I had last night watching the Czech Republic beat Holland 3-2.Ha bloody ha. I had put a bet on and the odds were good but I didn't really think that the Czechs would do it. Imagine mental woman screaming like a lunatic when they actually did.

Oh what a smug Sunday it is.

People who sit down a lot

I can totally understand why people who sit down a lot in this country, wouldn't be tempted to run out and buy a ton of fruit and veg from places such as Iceland (which I forever call Bejams, remember them?), or other big supermarkets. Fell short of a major heart attack at the price of a bag of 6 apples yesterday. GBP1.29. Are these organisations insane? SIX APPLES?

My problem is that I tend to 'pop out to the shops' just when the local greengrocer is about to close (who are also overpriced but still cheaper than the supermarket and without the needless excess packaging). Must make note to get out earlier.

Having spent the last four years in Munich (which is 3 times cheaper to live, especially like a queen than here), I still just cannot understand why we put up with this absurdity without so much as a bat of an eyelid.

Kid behaviour 

Yesterday 

Art in Worthing 

Artish wave

I felt quite choked by the sea today. It was the perfect blue and the perfect turquoise.Unfortunate that I had to spend the day at CAB (Citizen's Advice Bureau), trying to outsmart my obnoxious Letting Agent, before they throw us out. I think a plan of attack has been established, and Monday will be the day of war. Who will win this battle, am not quite sure.

I was most happy with Greece drawing with cocky Spain, but will be sooooo embarrassed if England dare to lose against Switzerland today. I will place my final bet on Monday as to who will win the tournament. Am debating between Sweden, Denmark and my fun bet for Greece:-) The thing about big football competitions is that they turn you into stupid alcoholics for a month, and not much cooking gets done. I really fancied a Chinese yesterday but didn't quite drag myself there, so made do with cheesy pasta and salami with garlic, onions and olive oil. Simple but delicious and more importantly, quick. ALong with a green salad. Made in record speed for the evening game:-)

What you can do with a bread machine! 

Dodgy, Kilroy and UKIP

I must express my concern about this political party in Britain, but have to simultaneously congratulate them on their clever use of words. Words and wordsmiths are dangerous if used in a secretive and manipulative way, such as this party , the UK Independence Party.

Thankfully, today I have had my hunger for a goal totally whet.Sweden 1 - Bulgaria 0 at half time.I think that Sweden will score one more.

This Lambrini is starting to taste alright, which is a bit disturbing.

Robert Kilroy Silk may be a sexy gentleman in a James Bond kind of way but being sucessful in obtaining a bucketload of new support for the party, somehow leaves a nasty taste in my mouth.

What I see every day 

Gutted

I don't really want to talk about last night's football match. Apart from saying "Gutted". Smiled when saw the exact same sentiments in big letters on the front page of The Sun this morning.I don't buy newspapers but I do love a headline of a morning.

Am so speechless that I was unable to knock up anything more spectacular than eggs, potato wedges from McCain and beans.

Too depressed.

Down to the Lambrini that I dare to drink on repeat during the pathetic game that is Italy v Denmark.At this level of football, there should be goals in every match.Really. Hope this gets better.