I praise you O Turkey (Organic, from Hennesey's down Northcote road, well nawty) for giving up your fabulous meatiness (and er, life) for Chrissie day and making it all worth slaving over a nuclear powered oven for seven hours while Nan gets progressively steamed on mulled wine and some idiot sets fire to a piece of discarded wrapping paper in the middle of an ocean of discarded wrapping paper resulting in exotic burn marks on the beige carpet and 2nd degree burn marks on the idiot. I praise you O Pig, never mind you were horribly overcooked by Mrs.V from down the road and fell apart at the first prod of a carving knife into a thousand delapidated chunks of salty nothingness. We still gorged ourselves upon you, except weird Uncle Pete, who's been veggie since he was at uni and unwittingly chopped his right index finger into the stew while cooking on three tabs of double dipped Hoffman's. I meant to give thanks a while ago, but have been otherwise engaged with carpet cleaners and a chap from the RSPCA who heard a report someone had tried to flambe a newfoundland in the front living room.Meat Be Praised.
3 comments:
meat, you're right to like it
Ahhh, more shite on the net - bring it on.
Let's see some of them tunes then.
In the interests of peace in the land, may I hereby say that the ham, while overcooked, as the the lady in question admitted herself, was still delicious and consumed voraciously by all. No need for drunken abusive phone calls in the middle of the night thank you very much. Methinks a certain wife should lighten up and lay off the bottle.
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