What a dish

“Getting warm up here isn’t it?Whooph!”

The clouds have cleared and as we approach mid afternoon, the sun is shining.

It’s too warm for a jumper and a coat, but it is really pleasant in the April air, with a gentle breeze to freshen things up.

Posh Scouse will be in linen and sole-slapping flip flops tomorrow, complaining about the heat and demanding that all windows and doors be opened from 8am. I’m glad I won’t be here to witness it.


What a great plate of food
I’m getting to really dislike cookery programmes on TV. That’s not strictly true; I only really dislike anything with Antony Worrall Dwarf-face (mumbling little shit) in it and “Masterchef”.

Hosted by two of the most repellent men to have been let loose on the UK’s telly-viewing public, Masterchef pits amateur cooking enthusiasts against each other in a competition to win something like a cheese grater or something. It’s a great idea for a programme, and quite enjoyable apart from the nob judges, John Torode and Gregg Wallace.

Utter fucking twats, the pair of them. One is a toad-faced prat while the other (Torode) is a po-faced big-head who is incapable of stringing sentences together, opting merely for adjectives.

Clip from the show:
Wallace: “Right, let’s have a look at this plate of food that you’ve prepared. Hmm it’s a simple salad of shredded pan-fried duck on Thai greens and a chilli dressing. I love the way the dressing cuts through the fat in the duck. It’s really out there.”

Torode: “I’m getting: duck, green, leaves, meatiness, lemongrass. A great plate of food”

And it never matters how “really out there” any of the women contestants are, they ALWAYS choose a man as the winner.

A couple of things that particularly annoy me are:
“plate of food”
“cuts through”

“This is a wonderful salad dressing whereby the lime gives a gentle flavour, while having the acidity to cut through the wonderful olive oil without diluting its flavour.”

Oh fuck off you fucking stuck-up spastic.

You hear the same thing with people tasting wine to accompany a dish (sorry, plate of food). “This is a great wine that stands up in its own right, but is great for cutting through all those wonderful fats in the dish.”

Well, try a can of Pepsi Max pal, that’d cut through your stomach lining, teeth and bones!


Have toy
Yes, Sniffy has a new toy. I’ve finally got myself a digital SLR camera. It is divine. There’s a kind of connection between the user and the camera that means you can feel each shot as it’s taken. A beautiful bit of gadgetry courtesy of Canon.

I hope to be taking lots of photos, ably assisted by Trump, who can look out for bandits while I compose shots and the like. In anticipation of her not being mad keen on the idea, I’m also checking out a camera club and I might meet some new friends. I’m not really one for meeting new people, since most people are cocks, but I’ll give it a go. I don’t have to talk to any of them.


Keep Sniffy in gadgets
I’m thinking of having a Paypal “donate” button on here so people can donate a pound at a time and contribute to my gadget fund.


Blogging code of conduct
I know that the filthy Yorkshire homos have already covered this, and very eloquently too, but this is something that’s hovering in the news and is getting me a bit annoyed – let’s face it, it doesn’t take much.

Essentially, some woman in America has a blog or something that isn’t really a blog because it’s actually a commercial enterprise, but she posts her daily musings on there and invites comments from her adoring readership. I can’t even be arsed to find out what her name is or what her blog is called, but we’ve all seen this sort of shite before when we’ve clicked on the “next blog” button. Anyroadup, somebody has been leaving threatening comments on her blog and she’s got upset and some people have come out in support of her and have demonstrated their support by suspending posts to their own sites. These same people, whoever the fuck they are, have come out and proposed a Blogging code of conduct. Excuse me, but who died and put them in charge?

Tossers.

In some respects, you can have a modicum of sympathy because the woman in question was targeted at her own site. What I don’t understand is how people have the audacity to complain and get offended by blogs that they visit voluntarily, especially when the blog author gives it back to them. For a “frexample”, check out the comments on the following posts.

Arise, Sir Bonio
Blasted from the past, and when I stopped allowing comments on this post, she found me at:
The very best of British

And just for fun, Solitary mind games

As you can see, I am sometimes targeted by a Cliff Richard-loving visitor from Alabama, who never leaves a link to their own blog and rarely leaves a name.

If you ask me, any blogging code of conduct should include the obvious clause that if you leave a critical comment on somebody’s blog, expect it back at least ten-fold.

Tossers.