Am I the only one who thinks that "moisture infused pork" is smeg? I bought a couple of pork steaks a couple of months back, and allowed myself to be talked into the moisture infused version, on the info provided that they were "tastier, juicier, more succulent and easier to cook". Sounds great - although in the back of my mind a little voice was saying "it's just soaked in water, you moron! Don't you rant about how meat is being soaked in water to make it heavier, and therefore better value for the supplier? Don't you? Huh?!?"
I cooked it up that night, and served it forth with veggies and gravy or sauce of some kind, and I was very, very disappointed. The meat was, as promised, juicy and succulent. It was also really salty (that would be on account of the brine), really lacking in any other flavour, and the texture... well, the texture is a whole 'nother story. Have you ever had reconstituted meat? When they have taken "genuine pig parts" (or other animal) ground it up and reformed it into a meat-like product? Yup, I think everyone has. You know how it's a little bit... spongy? Yup, well that's what the "moisture infused pork" was like. Obviously the brine is forced into the meat under pressure, or it would just cook out. This high pressure "infusion" makes the meat spongy. In hindsight, it seems pretty obvious to me. Pity I wasted a perfectly good meal on it.
The reason I bring this up now is that I popped into the shopping centre at Winston Hills on the way home from work, and they have a nice butcher there. Not one of the really high-end ones, but they seem to have a good quality of product. I was going to buy some pork, until I realised that (in small, hard to read writing) all of the little plastic signs with the cut of pork and the price on them were labelled "moisture infused". So I asked the chap if all of their pork was so. Yes, says he. Ugh, says I. He tried rather half-heartedly to tell me that he has tried it and it's very nice, but I think he could see that I wasn't going to be convinced. So I sold my soul and went and bought some at Coles (for which I will no doubt burn in the fiery pits of hell for all eternity)
What really worries me is that this is the "future" for all pork. I did a Google search on the subject, and nearly all of it was industry stuff, and overwhelmingly positive, or blogs, and overwhelmingly positive. I did find one blog that panned the whole idea a bit, but only one site in ten pages of entries. That's really worrisome. Funnily enough, Speedy, if you read this, there were comments from you on this blog. Even on the interwebz, it's a small world.
I know that some of you are prolly thinking "SERVE YOU RIGHT, YOU HEINOUS BITCH! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW PIGS ARE REARED FOR MEAT PRODUCTION THESE DAYS?!?". And you would be right again. I just haven't been able to wean myself off the meat of the magical pig just yet, and haven't found a free-range pork supplier anywhere in the area.
Why do they keep fucking with our food? Can't it just be food again? Why does it have to be science?
Anyone?
Anyone?!?
Eek!
I went to sit on the couch in front of the telly (and the fan, more importantly) and trim up some boning and slide it into the freshly sewn channels. It's not the boning I wanted to use, of course, but that standard plastic bridal boning that we all used to use before we discovered the good stuff. I'm just using more of it than the good stuff. I wandered into the living room, but had not even rounded the telly yet when I heard the distinctive, sexed up saxaphone sounds of Lethal Weapon. "Aargh!" I said loudly, "what's this shit doing on again?" Yep, one of the other 400 movies made in this franchise had been on last week, and Rusty had watched that too.
I couldn't even bear to be in the same rooms as such visual garbage. Even from here (the land of Spar-Oom) I can hear the endless screaming and carrying on like pork-chops. Gag.
I couldn't even bear to be in the same rooms as such visual garbage. Even from here (the land of Spar-Oom) I can hear the endless screaming and carrying on like pork-chops. Gag.
I might call mine Larry...
A couple of weeks ago on afternoon radio on Triple J, there was some discussion, including sound bites, about Jennifer Love Hewitt getting Vagazzled. According the partial interview with her that they played on the Js, a friend of hers put Swarovski crystals on her "precious lady" (her ghastly terminology, not mine) and that it was "like a disco ball down there". Please, please don't ask me any questions about how or which er... specific area - I pondered this briefly until I realised that I was actually taking time to think about JLH's vagina, and I changed my train of thought very quickly. (Aaargh! Ponies! Rainbows! Pretty butterflies!) Overall it was mildly interesting in that "why on earth would you bother" kind of way, and had a reasonable amusement factor.
It must have sparked further discussion on the Jays that I missed, as they were playing a bunch of soundbites this arvo, generally of people saying various euphemisms for the female genitalia, including a reference to having it made all sparkly - gemitalia. There was one that made me laugh out loud though, which is still making me a bit giggly...
... Lawrence of Alabia.
*guffaw*
Yep, it's lame, but it's still funny.
It must have sparked further discussion on the Jays that I missed, as they were playing a bunch of soundbites this arvo, generally of people saying various euphemisms for the female genitalia, including a reference to having it made all sparkly - gemitalia. There was one that made me laugh out loud though, which is still making me a bit giggly...
... Lawrence of Alabia.
*guffaw*
Yep, it's lame, but it's still funny.
Grump
Hmph! I was going to do some frocking tonight, but instead I got to do the reeve report. Woo-hoo.
Oh, and I've lost my good plastic boning, which is making frockage more difficult than it needs to be.
All in all, pretty grumpy.
Oh, and I've lost my good plastic boning, which is making frockage more difficult than it needs to be.
All in all, pretty grumpy.
Bugger
Guess who had to change a tyre in a white linen top today?
Fortunately, I was at the shops when I realised that the tyre was flat, which meant that there were an assortment of random helpful gentlemen to give me a hand. One helped to get one of the wheel nuts undone, I managed another, and then a chap came along who had amazing wheel nut technique who got the other two in about 10 seconds. I fart-arsed about with the jack for a while (it's the one that came with the car, so it is designed to go in a very specific spot, which means (of course) that it was really hard to find), before another chap came along to help with that. Between the two of us, we got it all sorted in good time. No thanks to the twit who commented "hur hur hur, you can teach her how it's done", which earned him my very best "eat shit and die" look as I told him that I have known how to change a tyre since I was sixteen. The helpful chap agreed rather wholeheartedly with my opinion, and made a rude gesture on my behalf to the twit once his back was turned. Aw shucks, how sweet!
So, boo hiss to flat tyres and random twits, but hoorah for random helpful people. I must admit, I had completely forgotten that a chick changing a tyre will attract help pretty quickly, which is generally handy for the wheel nuts if nothing else (those little fuckers are almost impossible for humans to get off...)
Not really the way I wanted to end the day - hot and sticky and covered in skunge. I managed to keep my shirt pretty clean though - and I didn't have to take it off*...
*Thank goodness for small mercies!
Fortunately, I was at the shops when I realised that the tyre was flat, which meant that there were an assortment of random helpful gentlemen to give me a hand. One helped to get one of the wheel nuts undone, I managed another, and then a chap came along who had amazing wheel nut technique who got the other two in about 10 seconds. I fart-arsed about with the jack for a while (it's the one that came with the car, so it is designed to go in a very specific spot, which means (of course) that it was really hard to find), before another chap came along to help with that. Between the two of us, we got it all sorted in good time. No thanks to the twit who commented "hur hur hur, you can teach her how it's done", which earned him my very best "eat shit and die" look as I told him that I have known how to change a tyre since I was sixteen. The helpful chap agreed rather wholeheartedly with my opinion, and made a rude gesture on my behalf to the twit once his back was turned. Aw shucks, how sweet!
So, boo hiss to flat tyres and random twits, but hoorah for random helpful people. I must admit, I had completely forgotten that a chick changing a tyre will attract help pretty quickly, which is generally handy for the wheel nuts if nothing else (those little fuckers are almost impossible for humans to get off...)
Not really the way I wanted to end the day - hot and sticky and covered in skunge. I managed to keep my shirt pretty clean though - and I didn't have to take it off*...
*Thank goodness for small mercies!
The awesomeness of Paddle Pops
No really, they are Teh Awesome.
I haven't had a PP in years, and after helping a bit with Feral Cheryl's moving on Sunday (on a day that was no less than 247% humidity) I was in need of an icy treat. I am happy to report that not only are they still reasonably priced, but they really do taste as good as they did when I was ten. I had thought that they would be a bit like all nostalgia - better in your memory than in actuality, but I was pleasantly surprised.
So, whilst I was slurping down my yummy ice confection*, I read the nutritional and ingredients info (like you do when you are thirtysomething, but not something that worries you when you are ten), and was even more pleasantly surprised. They are not actually an ice-cream, they are more of a milk ice. Made mostly out of food ingredients, rather than numbers, and involving quite a lot of skim milk, they are also only about 5% fat, and about 5% of the RDI of kilojoules. Pwah!
So I enjoyed my almost entirely guilt-free Paddle Pop very much (and bought a box of them at the supermarket yesterday - they worked out to be abut 55 cents each, which is barely more than double what we paid for them from the corner shop in 1979). It's nice when sometimes the good things from your childhood are still roxor when you are nearly....erm, I mean years and years away from being forty.
I know this sounds a bit like blatant advertising for ice-cream manufacturers, but in this case I am prepared to tip my hat to the continued awesomeness that is the humble Paddle Pop, and may they still be awesome in another thirty years.
*OK, ok, I actually had two, because I couldn't decide between banana and chocolate. They both tasted exactly as I remember them. They were yummy. I enjoyed eating them a lot.
I haven't had a PP in years, and after helping a bit with Feral Cheryl's moving on Sunday (on a day that was no less than 247% humidity) I was in need of an icy treat. I am happy to report that not only are they still reasonably priced, but they really do taste as good as they did when I was ten. I had thought that they would be a bit like all nostalgia - better in your memory than in actuality, but I was pleasantly surprised.
So, whilst I was slurping down my yummy ice confection*, I read the nutritional and ingredients info (like you do when you are thirtysomething, but not something that worries you when you are ten), and was even more pleasantly surprised. They are not actually an ice-cream, they are more of a milk ice. Made mostly out of food ingredients, rather than numbers, and involving quite a lot of skim milk, they are also only about 5% fat, and about 5% of the RDI of kilojoules. Pwah!
So I enjoyed my almost entirely guilt-free Paddle Pop very much (and bought a box of them at the supermarket yesterday - they worked out to be abut 55 cents each, which is barely more than double what we paid for them from the corner shop in 1979). It's nice when sometimes the good things from your childhood are still roxor when you are nearly....erm, I mean years and years away from being forty.
I know this sounds a bit like blatant advertising for ice-cream manufacturers, but in this case I am prepared to tip my hat to the continued awesomeness that is the humble Paddle Pop, and may they still be awesome in another thirty years.
*OK, ok, I actually had two, because I couldn't decide between banana and chocolate. They both tasted exactly as I remember them. They were yummy. I enjoyed eating them a lot.
but I wanted to keep that money...!
Took the car for it's annual rego check today. It's quite handy - the shopping centre down the road has an Ultra-Tune which does the e-checks (and then emails your pink slip to the RTA, so you can do all the rest online. Hooray!). So I took the car in, thinking it would cost me $35, plus a little more for new headlight globe.
Hah!
Put a one on the front and a zero on the back and you'd be a bit closer to the truth. Needed new front shocks, shock capping thingies, two new tyres and about six globes, and then $35 for the rego check. Bugger. Still, the car is seven years old and has done over 100 000kms, and I really haven't had to spend a lot of serious money on it yet. Compare this with the Hyundai Excel that I bought mumblemumbletwentymumble years ago, that needed a new clutch at 3 years and all of the gearbox bearings replaced at 60 000kms (it had a 3 year/60 000km warranty, but you could see that coming, couldn't you?), both of which were quite pricey. It was nine years old when I sold it, and in much, much worse condition than the Astra, even taking another two years into consideration.
So, in summaary, I spend 1300 bucks today, and didn't even get something shiny for it (the car doesn't count - currently, it's really not so much with the shiny...)
Pout.
Hah!
Put a one on the front and a zero on the back and you'd be a bit closer to the truth. Needed new front shocks, shock capping thingies, two new tyres and about six globes, and then $35 for the rego check. Bugger. Still, the car is seven years old and has done over 100 000kms, and I really haven't had to spend a lot of serious money on it yet. Compare this with the Hyundai Excel that I bought mumblemumbletwentymumble years ago, that needed a new clutch at 3 years and all of the gearbox bearings replaced at 60 000kms (it had a 3 year/60 000km warranty, but you could see that coming, couldn't you?), both of which were quite pricey. It was nine years old when I sold it, and in much, much worse condition than the Astra, even taking another two years into consideration.
So, in summaary, I spend 1300 bucks today, and didn't even get something shiny for it (the car doesn't count - currently, it's really not so much with the shiny...)
Pout.
Of fail and win
So, it seems that I suck at Hollandaise sauce. Tried a couple of times - fairly epic fail. Poo.
However, I did manage to poach a couple of nice googies to perfection*, with lots of oozy egg yolk. Nom. Just a pity they didn't have lovely home-made Hollandaise on them...
* You may be wondering why this is blog worthy - I haven't actually poached an egg in more years than I can remember, so it is an achievement, albeit a smallish one.
However, I did manage to poach a couple of nice googies to perfection*, with lots of oozy egg yolk. Nom. Just a pity they didn't have lovely home-made Hollandaise on them...
* You may be wondering why this is blog worthy - I haven't actually poached an egg in more years than I can remember, so it is an achievement, albeit a smallish one.
I'm having trouble with my digestive processes - again. Hoo-bloody-ray. Some biting stomach pains and last night a bout of rapid expulsion of everything that wasn't nailed down. (sorry - TMI I know).
So, fast forward to this morning - a reasonable nights sleep and not having whatever it was that was poisoning me in my system any more putting me mostly to rights - and I am feeling a lot better. I was sitting here on the 'puter looking up times for the days activities, (and watching R wrestling with the cat, who seems determined to "help" R play Warcrack), and I got one of my tummy hurts.
"Are your pains hurting you" himself asks with concern...
Yes honey, that's what pains do best. We had a good giggle over it though.
So, fast forward to this morning - a reasonable nights sleep and not having whatever it was that was poisoning me in my system any more putting me mostly to rights - and I am feeling a lot better. I was sitting here on the 'puter looking up times for the days activities, (and watching R wrestling with the cat, who seems determined to "help" R play Warcrack), and I got one of my tummy hurts.
"Are your pains hurting you" himself asks with concern...
Yes honey, that's what pains do best. We had a good giggle over it though.
Ugh. Bit over the heat. Over 40 degrees is boring. I was interested to note, however, that according to the BOM , at ~3pm this arvo the temp in Sydney City was 41 deg, and the temp in Penriff was 41.7 deg. That is actually quite unusual - poor old far western Sydney is usually 3 or 4 degrees hotter (on a hot day). Nice to see that the suffering is being a bit more evenly distributed today!
Still, bring on the cool change!
*In case you haven't noticed, I am really not a hot weather person. The higher the temp, the more whinging. It's a hard life being a cold climate girl in Sydney. Really need to move back to England...
Still, bring on the cool change!
*In case you haven't noticed, I am really not a hot weather person. The higher the temp, the more whinging. It's a hard life being a cold climate girl in Sydney. Really need to move back to England...
I want to move now please...
I am starting to get really tired of hearing the Bogan Queen across the street screaming "Fucken fuck fark, fucken fucken wanker fucken" at her kids all the bloody time. It's really, really distasteful, and I just don't want to hear it. I'm not a prude about "fruity" language, and goodness knows I can turn the air blue at times, but there is a time and a place, and the whole street doesn't have to listen to me swearing.
I think we are going to have to move. I wish we could do it now, but I think we are still going to have to wait a couple of years.
All I want is a quiet neighbourhood, is that too much to ask?
I think we are going to have to move. I wish we could do it now, but I think we are still going to have to wait a couple of years.
All I want is a quiet neighbourhood, is that too much to ask?
The week that wasn't
This has not been a good week for me. In fact, I would be so inclined to say it was one of the most god-awful weeks I have endured in a long time.
Why? Simple answer: stomach flu.
I woke up on Tuesday morning not feeling myself at all - nauseous, grumbly tummy, feverish. I had a very small, plain breaky to see if that would calm things down a bit, and debated long and hard as to whether I should go to work. In the end, I did, and part of me is glad that I went, because everyone got a good look at how well I wasn't, before I proceeded to take the rest of the week off.
So I came home and crawled into bed. I know I had a fever by this time, because I was freezing, even though it was hitting the high twenties outside. I think I slept most of the rest of the day. At about 8pm I realised I was burning with fever, and asked R to take me to the doctor. Over an hour later (and $75 - my Medicare card had expired, and I hadn't realised this.Bugger.) I finally got to see the doctor. Money not well spent, I am sorry to say. He talked over the top of me, asked the same questions 3 times, really didn't listen to what I was saying. My symptoms were pretty simple - temperature, nausea and vomiting and ... er ... other gastric symptoms. He looked at my throat (no inflamation) and took my temperature. It was 39.4, which is pretty high, but not alarming. He basically gave up on me then and there - high temperature is out of his league, and he would write me a referral to Westmead Hospital. Oh, after he told me it might be Swine Flu. WTF? Since when are gastric symptoms part of H1N1, huh? And I had a distinct lack of a sore throat, (which is a SF symptom). It's a good thing I am not a panic merchant or hypochondriac. What a moron. So, we tootle off to Westmead, where the triage nurse takes my temperature again (39.3) gives me two Neurofen, and tells me to see her again in an hour. So we went home. And came back in an hour. She took my temp again (38.7) and told me to wait for the doctor. After another hour, I overhear someone else being told that there is a minimum FOUR HOUR WAIT. Again with the WTF. So we went home. And stayed there. I wasn't going to sit for 4 hours (it was nearly midnight by now, and R had work the next day) to be told it is a stomach virus, go home and keep my fluids up, which is all that they could have told me, and what I did anyway.
So Tuesday was bad, but I think Wednesday was worse.
My fever waxed and waned, but never came down far enough to give me any real relief. And now was when the really heavy duty nausea and vomiting kicked in. All day, and well into the evening. I have a ring around my midsection where my diaphram joins my trunk, which HURTS! Like fire. Ow. But far worse is the misery of feeling constantly like being sick. I don't know how women who get morning sickness that lasts all day cope - I would go mad in a millisecond. Also by this stage I am starting to get thoroughly sick of rice crackers, even though I have only eaten about nine - but that is all I have eaten. Make it stop, Mummy!
Thursday - my temp came down! Hooray! So not feeling like a miserable, sweaty space cadet any more. Now about those stomach cramps...and the continuing vomiting and diarrhoea. Can stop any time. Any time, now. Aaaaaany time...
Friday - almost feeling like a human being. Almost. REALLY sick of crackers. I went down to Parramatta to go to the Medicare office and renew my card. There were a couple of moments where I thought I was going to crash into people, fall over or pass out. Or perhaps crash into people, fall over and pass out. Not out of the woods yet. I ate my first food at 3.30pm (and that was only a couple of mouthfuls). I have completely lost interest in it. I really only ate because I know that I have to. You know I'm really sick when I have so little interest in food...
Saturday - I ate real food! A whole cheese sandwich and a couple of peaches. And one piece of pizza.
Today - almost back to normal. Almost. Still eating bland food, and not a lot of it. But getting better.
The silver lining to all this (cos there's got to be one, or I would be VERY CRANKY) - I have lost 6 kilos! It's not all fluid - I never actually got all that dehydrated, but i will have to be careful to not pile it back on again.
So, that was my week. Hope the next one doesn't suck so badly...
Why? Simple answer: stomach flu.
I woke up on Tuesday morning not feeling myself at all - nauseous, grumbly tummy, feverish. I had a very small, plain breaky to see if that would calm things down a bit, and debated long and hard as to whether I should go to work. In the end, I did, and part of me is glad that I went, because everyone got a good look at how well I wasn't, before I proceeded to take the rest of the week off.
So I came home and crawled into bed. I know I had a fever by this time, because I was freezing, even though it was hitting the high twenties outside. I think I slept most of the rest of the day. At about 8pm I realised I was burning with fever, and asked R to take me to the doctor. Over an hour later (and $75 - my Medicare card had expired, and I hadn't realised this.Bugger.) I finally got to see the doctor. Money not well spent, I am sorry to say. He talked over the top of me, asked the same questions 3 times, really didn't listen to what I was saying. My symptoms were pretty simple - temperature, nausea and vomiting and ... er ... other gastric symptoms. He looked at my throat (no inflamation) and took my temperature. It was 39.4, which is pretty high, but not alarming. He basically gave up on me then and there - high temperature is out of his league, and he would write me a referral to Westmead Hospital. Oh, after he told me it might be Swine Flu. WTF? Since when are gastric symptoms part of H1N1, huh? And I had a distinct lack of a sore throat, (which is a SF symptom). It's a good thing I am not a panic merchant or hypochondriac. What a moron. So, we tootle off to Westmead, where the triage nurse takes my temperature again (39.3) gives me two Neurofen, and tells me to see her again in an hour. So we went home. And came back in an hour. She took my temp again (38.7) and told me to wait for the doctor. After another hour, I overhear someone else being told that there is a minimum FOUR HOUR WAIT. Again with the WTF. So we went home. And stayed there. I wasn't going to sit for 4 hours (it was nearly midnight by now, and R had work the next day) to be told it is a stomach virus, go home and keep my fluids up, which is all that they could have told me, and what I did anyway.
So Tuesday was bad, but I think Wednesday was worse.
My fever waxed and waned, but never came down far enough to give me any real relief. And now was when the really heavy duty nausea and vomiting kicked in. All day, and well into the evening. I have a ring around my midsection where my diaphram joins my trunk, which HURTS! Like fire. Ow. But far worse is the misery of feeling constantly like being sick. I don't know how women who get morning sickness that lasts all day cope - I would go mad in a millisecond. Also by this stage I am starting to get thoroughly sick of rice crackers, even though I have only eaten about nine - but that is all I have eaten. Make it stop, Mummy!
Thursday - my temp came down! Hooray! So not feeling like a miserable, sweaty space cadet any more. Now about those stomach cramps...and the continuing vomiting and diarrhoea. Can stop any time. Any time, now. Aaaaaany time...
Friday - almost feeling like a human being. Almost. REALLY sick of crackers. I went down to Parramatta to go to the Medicare office and renew my card. There were a couple of moments where I thought I was going to crash into people, fall over or pass out. Or perhaps crash into people, fall over and pass out. Not out of the woods yet. I ate my first food at 3.30pm (and that was only a couple of mouthfuls). I have completely lost interest in it. I really only ate because I know that I have to. You know I'm really sick when I have so little interest in food...
Saturday - I ate real food! A whole cheese sandwich and a couple of peaches. And one piece of pizza.
Today - almost back to normal. Almost. Still eating bland food, and not a lot of it. But getting better.
The silver lining to all this (cos there's got to be one, or I would be VERY CRANKY) - I have lost 6 kilos! It's not all fluid - I never actually got all that dehydrated, but i will have to be careful to not pile it back on again.
So, that was my week. Hope the next one doesn't suck so badly...
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Sigh.
My husband has discovered the delights of World of Warcraft.
I'm only ever going to see him briefly and in passing from now on.
Oh well, it was good while it lasted...! He is watching me write this, and seems to think that this is some kind of joke...
On the plus side, he is getting in plenty of quality time with the cat (who gets squished between lap and keyboard a lot of the time), as he is a captive audience. I think that this means that sometimes the "bad guys" don't end up the the sword in the head as they are supposed to, and instead "Hamcrusher" (Oh. My. God.) hares off in totally the wrong direction as Mysterious Forces (conveniently covered in fur and with pointy ears) interfere with the workings of the keyboard.
On a slightly different note, I had to (I can't believe I'm about to say this) slap a chicken in the head this morning, for attempting to defend the cat food bowl against, you guessed it, the cat. Grrr. The level of out of bounds-ness here is astonishing.
Cats who try to play WoW and chickens who think they are cats - that's what keeps life interesting around here.
I'm only ever going to see him briefly and in passing from now on.
Oh well, it was good while it lasted...! He is watching me write this, and seems to think that this is some kind of joke...
On the plus side, he is getting in plenty of quality time with the cat (who gets squished between lap and keyboard a lot of the time), as he is a captive audience. I think that this means that sometimes the "bad guys" don't end up the the sword in the head as they are supposed to, and instead "Hamcrusher" (Oh. My. God.) hares off in totally the wrong direction as Mysterious Forces (conveniently covered in fur and with pointy ears) interfere with the workings of the keyboard.
On a slightly different note, I had to (I can't believe I'm about to say this) slap a chicken in the head this morning, for attempting to defend the cat food bowl against, you guessed it, the cat. Grrr. The level of out of bounds-ness here is astonishing.
Cats who try to play WoW and chickens who think they are cats - that's what keeps life interesting around here.
"Gift" ideas...
I think Sunbeam and Kambrook (and Breville, to a lesser extent) must have teams on the payroll who brainstorm ideas for the most useless, crappiest small appliances known to humankind so that they can corner the market at christmas. There was a large spread in the latest round of junk mail devoted to "Gift Ideas". Some of them were reasonably useful - personal grooming products like hair dryers and straighteners, but the rest...
Sunbeam have got such gems as the "Slush Magic" slushy machine, "Moooooon Shaker" (give or take a couple of os) milkshake maker, "Avalanche" ice shaver, the "Sprinkles" doughnut maker (oh, for crying out loud), the "Cornelius" popcorn maker (I also know a Cornelius that blows hot air, and I wouldn't pay 45 bucks for him, either), the feckin' chocolate fountain (for which there are no words), and my personal favourite, the "Pattie" cupcake maker. What the...? I am at a complete loss as to how I have managed to make cupcakes on so many occasions before this without this wonder of modern technology. Buy a fucking patty tin, fer chrissakes, and donate the difference (which should be substantial, as "Pattie" is $90) to some starving kids in Africa. Geez.
Kambrook don't seem to have taken the crazy stick and run so far with it, but they do have a "Snacks and Fun" category, which includes another doughnut maker, a cookie press (why does this need to be an appliance?), and a Rotating Stone Pizza Oven. There was also a picture of a hot dog centre, but it doesn't seem to be available - I am desperately disappointed by this.
Breville is not quite as ridiculous either, but still have pancake and omelette makers (surely, surely, a frying pan would do an admirable job here!)
I know that all of these brands also produce many useful, labour saving devices. I am eternally grateful for my food processor and stand mixer, toaster and kettle. I would have thought, though, that consumers living in the rich, industialised nations of the West would have leaned their lesson after the bread maker debacle. Alas, it seems that we are devoted to spending $90 on a dozen cupcakes (and remember, you still have to make the batter!) or $45 for 5 slushies.
Well honestly, do you really think any of these will get used more than twice?
No, me neither.
So tired...
I really don't know why, but it's all I can do to keep my eyes open today. Didn't go to bed too late last night, slept well, was up at a reasonable hour this morning, did some stuff, then had a huge three hour nap, and I'm still really tired. I'm coming to appreciate how precious weekends are again, and yet all I want to do is go back to bed.
Maybe it's the weather.
The new job
I was going to post this at the end of last week, but, you know, didn't...
The job so far:
The Good
The job so far:
The Good
- The people there are really nice. I have been made to feel very welcome.
- It's less than 4kms from home. Gotta love 10 mins to work.
- It's also really close to a shopping centre, which is handy for groceries and lunches.
- The little things, like a decent coffee machine in the lunch room, and actual morning and afternoon tea breaks.
- As of Monday afternoon, I still didn't have a computer, which is going to make doing any actual work difficult. I have been doing a fair bit of filing.
- It's a six month contract, so there's a real chance that there will be no place for me after that.
- I am as sick as a dog. I had to go home at lunchtime on the first day of my second week, and was off today. Just a cold, but a bit of a doozy.
Creepy
This is what I was talking about the other night...
Creepy, fake, plastic and very two-dimensional. The world is a bit fucked up when the primping and preening and hair and make-up isn't enough for the child pageant entrants, and they have to get photoshopped to within an inch of their lives.
Yuck.
It's a good thing they've all got different hats on, or I wouldn't be able to tell them apart!
Creepy, fake, plastic and very two-dimensional. The world is a bit fucked up when the primping and preening and hair and make-up isn't enough for the child pageant entrants, and they have to get photoshopped to within an inch of their lives.Yuck.
It's a good thing they've all got different hats on, or I wouldn't be able to tell them apart!
