Went to the Hogsheads Christmas pub quiz last night. We lost pathetically, and even missed out on all the raffle prizes. I suspect a conspiracy, a conspiracy some members of my team were part of - DR Congo?? I ask you!
I did learn of a somewhat alarming development however - since Jam got confirmation of his job with Ryanair, he feels compelled to palm off second rate pilot jokes to all and sundry. A dark dark cloud has passed over this world.....
Oh, and vegans are stupid! But I guess we all knew that anyway! Any vegans out there prepared to comment? Thought not.
Thursday, December 21
Tuesday, December 19
congratulation jam
Congratulations to James A. who successfully passed an interview with Ryanair to become pilot first class a few days ago.
James : Well done old boy. All those years of 'hard-work' and 'dedication' have paid off.
Everyone Who Flies Ryanair : Be afraid, be very afraid.
Mr&Mrs A. : He's going! He's leaving home! You must be over the moon!
James : Well done old boy. All those years of 'hard-work' and 'dedication' have paid off.
Everyone Who Flies Ryanair : Be afraid, be very afraid.
Mr&Mrs A. : He's going! He's leaving home! You must be over the moon!
dublin musing
Standing outside the Louis Vuitton shop in Dublin the other day looking poor and waiting for Miki, Yoshi posed an interesting, if slightly random, question -
Do midgets have super powers?
Additionally, through the course of our musings, the question was raised whether the outcome of a fight between
a) a normal sized man and a giant ant
and
b) a normal sized ant and a shrunken man
would be the same. Answers/reflections in comment form please.
Do midgets have super powers?
Additionally, through the course of our musings, the question was raised whether the outcome of a fight between
a) a normal sized man and a giant ant
and
b) a normal sized ant and a shrunken man
would be the same. Answers/reflections in comment form please.
the yosh man cometh
Been at home for a week now, and already resemble a fattened hog. Spent the first few days indoors, watching as Northern Ireland tried, with no inconsiderate amount of success, to become the worlds biggest puddle. It made no difference to me, as I was quite content to munch on everything and anything edible and within reach, and bask in the fuzzy glory of the world's most brilliant idea - central heating! Asian countries take note.
The last three days were spent chugging about in a rented car. In the original plan, I had foreseen a trip designed to take in the glories of the West coast and show Miki the rugged beauty inherent in this fair country. That plan was scuppered when, on the back of a hastily stuck together flight of fancy, Becky Feeny and the Yosh-monster flew in to say hello so we all went to Dublin and sat in various pubs, drinking. My old mate Seamus showed up. Merriment was made.
I should point out at this juncture to those outside the loop (of knowledge) that Becky and Yoshi are friends of mine from when I was in Japan and who currently reside in Dundee. They wanted to come over at New Years for our giant party, but plans to visit Yoshi's family got in the way, so they came over for a blink-and-you'll-miss-'em weekend whirlwind jaunt. After our night in Dublin we headed North, back to the civilised world, to visit another Japan alumni, Robbie. Another night in the pub saw a very bored Miki who got fed up listening to our Nippon reminiscing after the third hour, but she consoled herself the next day by purchasing a foot long German sausage for lunch in Belfast the next day. No jokes please.
Three days, two capitals, many many beers, but no pictures. We forgot our camera and Becky is a modern day luddite who keeps digital technology at an arms length claiming "sure I'd just break it." So we bought a disposable that will probably never get developed. But it was a good weekend.
The last three days were spent chugging about in a rented car. In the original plan, I had foreseen a trip designed to take in the glories of the West coast and show Miki the rugged beauty inherent in this fair country. That plan was scuppered when, on the back of a hastily stuck together flight of fancy, Becky Feeny and the Yosh-monster flew in to say hello so we all went to Dublin and sat in various pubs, drinking. My old mate Seamus showed up. Merriment was made.
I should point out at this juncture to those outside the loop (of knowledge) that Becky and Yoshi are friends of mine from when I was in Japan and who currently reside in Dundee. They wanted to come over at New Years for our giant party, but plans to visit Yoshi's family got in the way, so they came over for a blink-and-you'll-miss-'em weekend whirlwind jaunt. After our night in Dublin we headed North, back to the civilised world, to visit another Japan alumni, Robbie. Another night in the pub saw a very bored Miki who got fed up listening to our Nippon reminiscing after the third hour, but she consoled herself the next day by purchasing a foot long German sausage for lunch in Belfast the next day. No jokes please.
Three days, two capitals, many many beers, but no pictures. We forgot our camera and Becky is a modern day luddite who keeps digital technology at an arms length claiming "sure I'd just break it." So we bought a disposable that will probably never get developed. But it was a good weekend.
Saturday, December 9
Saturday's Random Interesting Fact
The westernmost side of Kazakhstan is closer to Hamburg than it is to its own eastern border. Fancy that!
Friday, December 8
Survival of the Fattest II: stratagem
Good planning is key to a successful buffet experience. Here I offer up five key tips for gaining that extra foothold:
Grab a central table. I can’t stress this enough people. A central table is essential to any successful buffet maneuver, which can become quickly jeopardized by too much walking. Walking is your enemy! Leaving aside the fact that on your fifth trip to the dessert counter you won’t want to be carrying that bulging stomach very far, the further you are from the food the more plates you’ll have to carry. Thus, any number of things can quickly go wrong. You may drop some of your carefully chosen fare, even a whole plate, even multiple dishes! Or you may miss a whole section in your haste to get to the meat. Heaven forbid, your food could be cold by the time you get back!
The meat counter is your best friend. Vegetarians have no business in all-you-can-eat buffets. It is, essentially, all about the meat. Locate the main meat counter upon entering, and as soon as you can, strike up a rapport with the chef. All it takes is a subtle "I like your hat" or "my what a big piece of meat you have." From then on whenever you approach he will have the choicest cuts, the biggest servings ready and waiting – without this understanding the best you can hope for is to command a mild repulsion from him. They hate to give away their succulent slices. Obvious exceptions are the meat buffets (like the Brazilian Steakhouse) where the meat comes to you, but really these are only for beginners and those on the Atkins diet.
Value for money. Maybe not high on the agenda for those who peer down from their lofty perches at the rest of us and spit, but for mere mortals, value of money is an important factor. As you would guess, many all-you-can-eat places are not cheap – they can’t be if the food is to be of a sufficiently high standard. Economy buffets will no doubt serve food of dubious hygiene and suspicious origin - kind of like France - and are to be avoided at all costs. If your buffet is more expensive than you had first thought, hit the most pricey foodstuff first. If they have caviar, grab a bowl, even if you don't like it. Polish your shoes with it or something (caviar makes a surprisingly good boot polish).
Take the all-you-can-drink option. Some places like to offer cheap fare but charge through the nose on drinks. These cowboys should be stopped! Always ascertain whether you can drink your fill as well as eat. If so, cocktails and wine all the way - an odd beer is fine to wash down some salty treats, but at the end of the day will take up too much precious stomach space. Alcohol is another good way to extract value from the meal.
Take a newspaper. Whether in a group or on your own (yes, on your own. There is nothing wrong with going to an all-you-can-eat buffet by yourself), it always pays to have some reading material handy. Should you eat your fill before being satisfied, you'll want to burn some time in order to ready yourself for another onslaught - remember, three journeys to the dessert counter is respectable, four is world-class. In addition, say you are waiting for the kitchen to cook another lamb joint, you'll need to keep yourself occupied. Conversation can only take you so far, for sooner or later a lull will crop up, and it is in these lulls that doubt sets in; the breadstick demons will grab hold and temptation will pound your skull like an out of control jack hammer. Many a hardened resolve has crumbled during a five minute wait. Keep your mind busy and you can beat the breadstick.
Next: mind your manners!
Grab a central table. I can’t stress this enough people. A central table is essential to any successful buffet maneuver, which can become quickly jeopardized by too much walking. Walking is your enemy! Leaving aside the fact that on your fifth trip to the dessert counter you won’t want to be carrying that bulging stomach very far, the further you are from the food the more plates you’ll have to carry. Thus, any number of things can quickly go wrong. You may drop some of your carefully chosen fare, even a whole plate, even multiple dishes! Or you may miss a whole section in your haste to get to the meat. Heaven forbid, your food could be cold by the time you get back!
The meat counter is your best friend. Vegetarians have no business in all-you-can-eat buffets. It is, essentially, all about the meat. Locate the main meat counter upon entering, and as soon as you can, strike up a rapport with the chef. All it takes is a subtle "I like your hat" or "my what a big piece of meat you have." From then on whenever you approach he will have the choicest cuts, the biggest servings ready and waiting – without this understanding the best you can hope for is to command a mild repulsion from him. They hate to give away their succulent slices. Obvious exceptions are the meat buffets (like the Brazilian Steakhouse) where the meat comes to you, but really these are only for beginners and those on the Atkins diet.
Value for money. Maybe not high on the agenda for those who peer down from their lofty perches at the rest of us and spit, but for mere mortals, value of money is an important factor. As you would guess, many all-you-can-eat places are not cheap – they can’t be if the food is to be of a sufficiently high standard. Economy buffets will no doubt serve food of dubious hygiene and suspicious origin - kind of like France - and are to be avoided at all costs. If your buffet is more expensive than you had first thought, hit the most pricey foodstuff first. If they have caviar, grab a bowl, even if you don't like it. Polish your shoes with it or something (caviar makes a surprisingly good boot polish).
Take the all-you-can-drink option. Some places like to offer cheap fare but charge through the nose on drinks. These cowboys should be stopped! Always ascertain whether you can drink your fill as well as eat. If so, cocktails and wine all the way - an odd beer is fine to wash down some salty treats, but at the end of the day will take up too much precious stomach space. Alcohol is another good way to extract value from the meal.
Take a newspaper. Whether in a group or on your own (yes, on your own. There is nothing wrong with going to an all-you-can-eat buffet by yourself), it always pays to have some reading material handy. Should you eat your fill before being satisfied, you'll want to burn some time in order to ready yourself for another onslaught - remember, three journeys to the dessert counter is respectable, four is world-class. In addition, say you are waiting for the kitchen to cook another lamb joint, you'll need to keep yourself occupied. Conversation can only take you so far, for sooner or later a lull will crop up, and it is in these lulls that doubt sets in; the breadstick demons will grab hold and temptation will pound your skull like an out of control jack hammer. Many a hardened resolve has crumbled during a five minute wait. Keep your mind busy and you can beat the breadstick.
Next: mind your manners!
I originally posted this back in January, but seeing that
a)back then I had about two regular readers
b)the fact that I have recently re-discovered it
b)I wish to inflict upon my friends many many many wasted hours
here it is again - THE FALLING SAND GAME . Great stuff. The simplest of pleasures include building a huge oil reserve and then watching it burn, pixel by tiny pixel.
a)back then I had about two regular readers
b)the fact that I have recently re-discovered it
b)I wish to inflict upon my friends many many many wasted hours
here it is again - THE FALLING SAND GAME . Great stuff. The simplest of pleasures include building a huge oil reserve and then watching it burn, pixel by tiny pixel.
the message messiah
I was wondering why no one was leaving messages on this thing. Quite a few hits (I count more than 10 as quite a few hits) and not one message. However, it has just been pointed out to me, in no uncertain terms, that people aren't allowed to leave messages as I haven't enabled it. Silly Peter.
Anyway, I have now, so go ahead, leave messages. I know you want to.
Anyway, I have now, so go ahead, leave messages. I know you want to.
Thursday, December 7
Thursday
Thursday today - The weather was really really bad. Visibility was down to 3b (as in I could see a maximum of three buildings away) and from our balcony I could only just make out the ground, 23 floors down. Not sure if it was a perpetual mist, smog, or a toxic cloud - probably a mixture of all three. Nothing much really happened today. Business was slow and my only source of amusement was the White Ball of Fury who went a bit mad.
Only 4 more days and myself and Miki leave on a jet plane back to the motherland to enjoy home cooking and a 'proper' Christmas. By proper I do of course mean the polar opposite of last year, which was spent in New Zealand (see here). Beautiful blue skies, a warm sunny atmosphere and turkeys cooked on bbq's. It's just not right! Miserable cold and wet weather with the odd frost - THAT'S a Christmas. Makes you really appreciate the hot food and alcohol.
THE CHALLENGE update
Over a week since I wagered my erstwhile brother an expensive bottle of whiskey to the one who collects the most postcards from Scandinavia by the 1st April and the score as of today, the 7th of December, stand:
Peter - zero
Simon - zip
So, at t
he minute it's anyones game. Simon has a slight advantage seeing he has a special Swedish friend returning home next week who is dedicated to quenching his thirst. I got her alone on msn for a while and plied my charm, hoping to turn her from the Dark side (it's a pretty well established fact that Simon stands on the side of darkness), but alas she would not fall. The Swedes I count as friends are still in Shanghai, and much as I enjoy their company, they're no use to me here - GO HOME AMBJORN. And send me some postcards.... I'm off to visit Swedish chat rooms and put forward my case.
Peter - zero
Simon - zip
So, at t
he minute it's anyones game. Simon has a slight advantage seeing he has a special Swedish friend returning home next week who is dedicated to quenching his thirst. I got her alone on msn for a while and plied my charm, hoping to turn her from the Dark side (it's a pretty well established fact that Simon stands on the side of darkness), but alas she would not fall. The Swedes I count as friends are still in Shanghai, and much as I enjoy their company, they're no use to me here - GO HOME AMBJORN. And send me some postcards.... I'm off to visit Swedish chat rooms and put forward my case.
Tuesday, December 5
Survival of the Fattest I
Part one in a series discussing the many dangers inherent in the all-you-can-eat buffet, and advice on how to avoid them. Read closely; the information here may save your life one day….
There is a certain special feeling involved with the all-you-can eat buffet, an exalted, gluttonous celebration of Jacobean proportions; slabs of shimmering meat, acres of glistening sushi, the multihued decadence of the dessert corner. The pure excess of wall to wall food is enough to make a fat man weep. Filling the cracks between the stagnant one style ‘speciality’ restaurants like ‘Thai’ restaurants or ‘pizza’ parlours, it exists as a fairy tale world where elven feasts are realized and the banquets of Neverland are brought to life in full flavoured glory.
Of course, there are rules. With such an abundance of foods in the one place there must be rules. You can’t go bounding into a professional buffet room all guns a-blazing, stacking your plate with anything and everything that comes to hand. Many a novice patron has run wild with voracious glee only to succumb to the many pitfalls inherent within. Superfluous fillers and malevolent breadsticks lurk at every turn, as do fancy foreign pastries that, though cute and pleasing to the eye, serve only to conceal a centre of pure evil.
Though I now stand before you as a hardened buffet vet, I must lay claim to my shameful past; I too was once a pasty faced all-you-can-eat greenhorn. As a skinny and innocent 14 year old, barely ready to meet the world, I was thrown into the deep end during an exchange trip to the southern US state of Louisiana. I will save you the brutal details, but suffice it to say, they were not pretty. The disdainful pity received from my American counterparts is something I recall in my nightmares to this day.
I learned the hard way. Walking into an all-you-can-eat buffet is not like walking into a normal restaurant. It is walking into a war, a vicious bloody war that pits you, your digestive system and, by god, your dignity, against an avalanche of foods. As commanding officer of your performance you must lead with a level head, a steady nerve and a constitution of iron. As any good general worth his salt will tell you, if a war is to be won, you need to have a damn good battle plan drawn up in order to win it.
Next time: War games.
There is a certain special feeling involved with the all-you-can eat buffet, an exalted, gluttonous celebration of Jacobean proportions; slabs of shimmering meat, acres of glistening sushi, the multihued decadence of the dessert corner. The pure excess of wall to wall food is enough to make a fat man weep. Filling the cracks between the stagnant one style ‘speciality’ restaurants like ‘Thai’ restaurants or ‘pizza’ parlours, it exists as a fairy tale world where elven feasts are realized and the banquets of Neverland are brought to life in full flavoured glory.
Of course, there are rules. With such an abundance of foods in the one place there must be rules. You can’t go bounding into a professional buffet room all guns a-blazing, stacking your plate with anything and everything that comes to hand. Many a novice patron has run wild with voracious glee only to succumb to the many pitfalls inherent within. Superfluous fillers and malevolent breadsticks lurk at every turn, as do fancy foreign pastries that, though cute and pleasing to the eye, serve only to conceal a centre of pure evil.
Though I now stand before you as a hardened buffet vet, I must lay claim to my shameful past; I too was once a pasty faced all-you-can-eat greenhorn. As a skinny and innocent 14 year old, barely ready to meet the world, I was thrown into the deep end during an exchange trip to the southern US state of Louisiana. I will save you the brutal details, but suffice it to say, they were not pretty. The disdainful pity received from my American counterparts is something I recall in my nightmares to this day.
I learned the hard way. Walking into an all-you-can-eat buffet is not like walking into a normal restaurant. It is walking into a war, a vicious bloody war that pits you, your digestive system and, by god, your dignity, against an avalanche of foods. As commanding officer of your performance you must lead with a level head, a steady nerve and a constitution of iron. As any good general worth his salt will tell you, if a war is to be won, you need to have a damn good battle plan drawn up in order to win it.
Next time: War games.
Friday, December 1
Rambo 2
Here's Miki's homage to Rambo, that crazy loveable ball of white fur whose only mission in life is to ruin every little thing we own and piss in all the corners. Isn't he a cutie!
little rant
Just spent three hours on the bus coming back from Suzhou where we were forced to waste yet another day in the name of forwarding the business. I hate Suzhou. Just as I hate train stations that stop selling tickets after 7. And I hate people who have accidents causing ridiculously long traffic jams and making a one hour journey last over three. Surprisingly though, I don't hate buses. I like buses.
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