Freshly Spilled Thoughts

The other day I was out eating things that looked like food…

…I’ve never had my mind expanded into the realms of brisket before.

I can’t say I’ve ever looked up brisket in the dictionary either.

It was recommended to me as the culinary equivalent of the second coming of Jesus.

Well, maybe not quite that good, but you get the picture.

I ordered brisket and waited.

The brisket arrived.

It was on a serving board.

So far, so good.

It tasted okay, but it’s the texture I had issues with.

I found myself looking at supposedly lesser rump steak with a degree of envy.

Rump steak may not be an A lister, but it’s dependable and you know what you’re getting.

Unless of course it goes rogue and slaps Chris Rock at an awards ceremony.

On cuts of beef they refer to the fat as marbling (tres posh).

Call it what you like, it’s still fat… and it tastes like it too.

I tried my best to ignore the facts and focus on the flavour.

Nope… it’s not for me.

I’ve been like this since I was a kid. If I see fat, then it’s got to go.

If it’s hidden and it doesn’t taste like fat, then it can stay.

It’s a simple rule I’ve always followed, but on this occasion I ignored my hard won wisdom (lol).

I’ll never have brisket again. Thankfully it had chips, coleslaw and pickles with it to offset the marbling.

The only marbles people should fall in love with are those of the Elgin variety.

I washed away the marbling with Driftaway IPA… which was fruity and pleasant.

Fruity and pleasant things are decidedly good. Just ask Vicky the Viking.

I would walk away from the altar if brisket rocked up wearing a wedding veil, I can tell you that much.

The disappointment of brisket has forced me to come up with a plan.

If I have never tried something before, I won’t order it.

I’ll just try the thing that arrives on the other person’s plate.

It’s so common sense, I don’t know why I haven’t thought of this before.

“Try this lemon stud muffin, you’ll love it” (I don’t know if stud muffins are a thing outside of sexy slang btw)

Really I should insert a normal foodstuff here, as the previous sentence makes no sense in foodie terms…

“Try this pecan pie, you’ll love it and if you down it in one I’ll even put you in the Guinness book of records”

“Dont mind if I do. Yes, I like it. Next time I’ll order that”

*crowd roars*

At this point you just doff your cap.

You see how simple that is.

Never again will I fall for the lure of brisket with its fancy wording that crosses the threshold into two syllables.

Variety may be the spice of life, but it’s prudent to sample the goods first so you don’t have to wash away the disappointment with Driftaway IPA.

Repeat the mantra.

Never risk it for a brisket.

My aunt used to have an old Nissan Micra she called “Red Rum”.

That’s mainly because she likes horses and the car was red.

I suppose because she had one for so long, I’ve always noticed them. I wouldn’t have one, I just notice them.

In the same way you notice someone wearing the same dress when you’re out.

Not that I wear a dress.

Back to the old Micra’s…

Driving one feels like driving a tin of peaches with wheels on it, in that you don’t so much drive it as experience it.

They are TEENY things on today’s roads. The sort of thing a Land Rover Defender would just squash without noticing.

My aunt had to get rid of hers after 23 years and this was a sorrowful event for her.

She hasn’t spoken about it since.

The other day, as I was traversing across the supermarket car park on foot, I commented on one that was parked up.

More, thinking out aloud than actually trying to articulate anything.

Thought no more of it and went to my car.

“Excuse me”, the voice bellowed in a friendly way.

It was a man with his hands in his pockets.

“I noticed you were looking at the Micra”

“Don’t worry mate, I wasn’t going to nick it”.

“No… it’s just. Well, it IS for sale.”

Somehow I had attracted a used Nissan car salesman. He was so friendly though, I carried on chatting to him and his partner.

He was getting rid of it to take up something he called “Van Life”

I don’t really know what van life is, but I assume it going around in a campervan to various places in your free time.

At least I hope it’s that.

In my head, they had a YouTube channel and must be monetising this lifestyle choice. That’s how my mind works.

I asked them if they were on YouTube.

They weren’t.

He wanted £1500 for it. Seems like a lot for an old Micra, but some of the old cars are going for silly money now.

At one time you could buy an old car for what it costs to do a quick shop in the supermarket (lol).

I remember years ago seeing a VW Scirocco for £95 on eBay and one of my mates saying, “you can buy a car for less than it costs for a night out on the piss.”

Yes, dear reader. We are highly articulate and evolved in Birmingham. Verily. Verily.

We made it through hump day and landed on (TFI) Friday.

Thank the Lord.

Let’s give ourselves a big pat on the back.

The week is now a blur in the rear view mirror.

Amen.

Can’t wait for tomorrow now.

Bots masquerading as real people is very prevalent on social media.

Usually they do this to sell something (subscriptions etc). The OnlyFans ones send impromptu pictures for no apparent reason.

Every now and again I engage with them just to see if they’re getting more advanced.

And they are…

Now they are capable of doing half decent banter, which is worrying.

Not quite my level, but banter all the same.

It’s no joke when a bot is more entertaining than 75% of the people online.

There was a time when AI was terrible at comedy/humour, but it is now at the point
where it at least gets it.

After a while they repeat patterns, but I can see lots of people falling for this…

…eventually we will have a hard time working out what is human online from text/words
alone… and that will be a sad day.

It’s genius leverage using bots to engage with people to shift products and services though.

(the best way I have found to catch them out is to ask them their username handle. They never seem to know it)…

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
‘Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane
Don’t know when I’ll be back again

Fable – I wonder if the people in Leamington Spa nicked this name from Brierley Hill. Sounds suspiciously familiar to me…

Sys_Error.Report_Log: The window didn’t match the records.

How do you solve a problem like Maria?

How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

After doing 75 minutes of training I found myself craving Hula Hoops.

So I think I might be pregnant (just a hunch).

At least it wasn’t gherkins.

Weird what we get cravings for isn’t it…

Hula Hoops
Ice Cream
Stolen Kisses
Reruns of Black Books

I wonder if anyone has ever joined OnlyFans and ended up disappointed and aghast at the distinct lack of Summer cooling electronic appliances on offer.

“They said they had fans but all I see is titillation and rebills. Meanwhile the temperature just keeps rising.”

“Try Amazon Prime. They know what people want and they’re not afraid to deliver it confidently in oversized cardboard boxes.”

“You can also order a blonde wig and have a go yourself if you fancy it.”

“No thanks. I’ll use my intellect and command of the English language, thank you. Samuel Pepys didn’t bury his cheese in vain.”

“Samuel who?”

“Never mind.”

Side Note: Surely they should change the name to OnlyFlaunting

Time is whizzing by lately.

There are not enough hours in the day.

Really they need to add an extra 8 hours each day just so you can fit the game of life in.

When I was a kid the days seemed to last ages.

The Summer holidays lasted even LONGER.

Now you blink and the next day is here.

I bet when you get to 100 a day is really only an hour in real terms. You heard it here first.

I don’t own a single album by Britney Spears but she’s grown on me.

Not like mould. That’s the wrong way to put it.

What I mean is…

I actually think some of her songs are genuinely good. Like Toxic… and Work Bitch.

I remember watching her on a chat show once. She was walking around the studio with the presenter, telling people to ‘work bitch’, as she cracked her whip.

Like you do.

She’s a good sport. I bet she’d play spin the bottle. You can’t imagine Cher doing that can you.

“You want a hot body. You want a Maserati. You better work bitch.”

It’s the antithesis of entitlement mentality… and I like that.

It’s also true. Nobody gives you anything in this life.

Long live Britney.

Imagine being Superman but on a day when you couldn’t be arsed…

Sys_Error.Report_Log: Something was different in the mirror today.

Dave Allen never pulled it off on Saturday, but he dared to dream and came up short.

He also got half a million quid for going 3 rounds against Filip Hrgovic.

Still a Donny Soldier.

Still loved.

And still the people’s champion.

Sometimes when you don’t look like you’ve won, the thing you gained or learned in the process is something you can’t put a price on.

And that’s life for you.

It’s how you look at it and what you make it.

That, dear reader, is my thought of the day.

There’s only one sporting celebrity I love.

Dave Allen (the Boxer)

And I’ll tell you why…

He’s a normal funny bloke from Doncaster, who happens to be able to box a bit.

He’s ranked #62 in the world and today he’s up against Filip Hrgovic (ranked #5).

On paper it’s a mismatch.

It shouldn’t really be happening, but people love Dave, especially people from Doncaster.

They’ve booked a stadium in Doncaster and got one of the world’s elites to turn up there to fight.

Dave is living his dream. This is his FA Cup Final and he’s the real life equivalent of Rocky Balboa from Donny.

Filip Hrgovic, today, is his everything.

You know how most people draft in someone like Eminem to front the walk into the ring?

Not Dave.

He brings in MC Devvo, a character from Donny that blew up on YouTube about 20 years ago before going viral was even a thing.

MC Devvo had a rap song years ago called Donny Soldier…

One bit in it goes, “Summer is here and it’s f****** f****** buzzing”

Just ridiculous really, but they seem to have a good sense of humour in Doncaster, that’s all I can say.

I thought unique humour was only reserved for Brummies 🙂

There’s nobody I want to see win more than Dave.

And I think he has a sporting chance.

When asked what sacrifices he’s made on the run up to this fight, he replied:

“I’ve eaten less sweets and chocolate.”

Then he said,

“You ask me what sacrifices I’ve made, but I’m living my dream every day. The people out there working 9-5… that’s sacrifice.”

Humble, self deprecating and showing maturity beyond his years

Good luck Dave. I hope you knock out Hrgovic and continue to live your dream.

The average bloke off the street will always be rooting for you.