The Baker Is Back

Like a particular type of infection, Krusty is back. I haven't done this for a while, and a quick tour round some of my old blogospheric haunts suggests that subject materials, the obsessions of the bloggers, haven't changed a lot. And neither have mine.

Key things to note are that I have relocated geographically, to the rural delights of Hampshire - that's Old Hampshire for my friends in the New World - and am about to relocate professionally, to the immense delights of yours truly and associated parties, especially Tabatha, who is also now my betrothed. This last, actually, is probably the keyest of things to note for those who are interested.

So my obsessions still include politics, pop music, telly, the lack of pubic hair on internet porn (and probably other media of porn too, but why would you bother) and the success of Jamie Oliver.


From what I can see there is a bit more sophistication to this lark than there used to be - fancy linking and stuff; apologies, I'm fresh back at it, so if links from here are a bit out of date and redundant, well, that's just the way it is until I've had a good spate of housekeeping and spring-cleaning, and as I'm shit at that in a very real sense when it actually matters in terms of managing my finances, doing domestic chores and generally looking after myself, you can't honestly expect me to do it in a virtual world where it doesn't really matter. I mean, visit a lot of commercial sites and frankly, they don't work, because the links don't work, the data is 2 years out of date and they're just shit. So this, being free and all, shouldn't be expected to look like a picture from Country Living.

I'm about a quarter of the way through a bottle of Jack Daniels, this evening, and really starting to wonder what all the fuss is about. I mean, it isn't the mellow, malty delight of a good bottle of Irish, or the richness of some of the more choice Scotches, is it? It's basically just ok. It isn't harsh, none of that sharpness of some of the stuff you can get, and not the downright oiliness of some of the apparently 'peaty' Scotch malts - I'm guessing that drinking Duckhams Hypergrade offers a similar experience.

Pop music question of the day - Blue Oyster Cult, honestly, America's answer to Black Sabbath? Yeah? C'mon, "Gardens of Nocturne", is that a lyric to take seriously? Mind you, rock tunes about Godzilla have to be a winner.

Is Hazel Blears real? Or is there a string in her back, which when pulled makes her say any one of approx 6 stock answers to any question asked. Also comes with emergency 'Scum Floats' facility.

Oooh dear, it's late, and I'm being checked out for behaving in an unsupervised manner....

What is a corn dog?

The new Star Trek picture - cracking, first time in years I've been to see a film and wished it was an hour longer, not an hour shorter.

Is Angelina Jolie attractive? Or, is she, excusing the pun, jolie laide? When I discussed this with a friend who is sapphic, she said that it is not Angelina who is a pin-up, but Lara Croft. This, I think, offers some insight into my question.

Why is tinned cider so bloody gassy? By the way, do Americans have cider? Does anyone else remember Cydrax, or was that just a benefit/quirk of being able to spend childhood pocket money at the tuck-shop of a minor public school? And if it still exists, where can I get it? I went to a school where the masters had a bar in their common room, and the best English teacher would walk into class in the morning with two carrier bags - one carrying the books he'd bothered to mark last night, and the other carrying last nights empties and today's to-be-emptied. And he'd take a pinch of snuff during class. (Ooh er missus)

Right, enough for now - if you're interested, piss on the post and I'll try and keep this going, and without some of the bitterness of the past, which was mostly why I stopped doing this, because, frankly, I was starting to repeat myself, like a bad doner.