Category Archives: The Columns

Why I'm never eating dogfish {Miscuity}

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Thanks Internet, you’ve shown me some wonderful things in my time, sadly this isn’t one of them.

There’s theories on the Internet about this very dead dogfish; either it has the zombie virus, or it’s “a living suffering being” (very unlikely), or something to do with salt and lemon. Or the lemon and aluminium foil. Or the salt and the… oh whatever, cue some more home experiments with seafood and expect to hear mums shouting “Stop playing with your food!”

via [Boing Boing]

Have you tried your own food Frankenstein experiment? Post your videos in the comments below.

The Great Welsh Summer {Ceri's Column}

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God damn, my country is beautiful in the Sun. It turns even more verdant than it usually is, (that’s pretty fucking green, man) the jaw-droppingly beautiful beaches shine like strips of pure gold dust and flocks of people are to be seen out and about, smiling. We have great ice cream in my neck of the…uh…seaside, and everyone seems to be licking at a scoop or tree. Happy, bright, summertime Wales.

However…

There are a lot of burnt-up people all of a sudden. One teeny chink of sunlight squeezes trough the gloomy haze above and the nation’s pallid, goblin-like inhabitants all emerge from their pits to bask and… Immediately get charred. Ha ha ha.

The amount of legs, arms, backs, shoulders, chests and noses shining crimson I’ve seen in the last couple of days has been staggering. I’ve also marvelled at the scores of clammy people sporting a fetching, ghost-coloured patch of face-skin where Ray-Bans were nearly fused to their face. Nice.

Ah, it’s only because I’m jealous y’know. Procul Harum may well have had me in mind when writing “Whiter Shade of Pale”…who am I kidding, it was the 60’s! They had purple Hindu deities dancing with kaleidoscopic rhinos in their minds after all the acid…plus I wasn’t born yet. Well whatever, I am very white. And I guarantee that, despite all my sun-dodging attempts, there’ll be at least one occasion that I’ll be transformed to a gnarled half-man, half-crackling creature by the end August.

Most of you think of the smell of cut-grass when you think of summer. Not me. The stink of burger vans is also filling my nostrils when I think of summer, and do you know what? I like it. I have absolutely no idea why the whiff of blackened Grade F beef/bread/god-knows and slimy onions smothered in unnaturally yellow mustard makes me exclaim “Ah! Summer!” But it does. And I will consume at least one ill-advised artery-clogger of a burger by the time I have transformed into the gnarled half-man, half-crackling creature.

Shit. I’ll be turning into Gollum.

My Story [DONOVAN]

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Dear DONOVAN

What made you decide to be a comedian and where was your worst ever gig

Danny Cardiff

Hi Danny,

I started when I was 10! I was a very angry child and needed a source to vent that anger. I used to deliver TVs with my granddad’s friend but there was interference. So I stumbled along a working mens club in Swansea called ‘Penlan Anti-Social Club‘.

Every Wednesday I would perform 10 mins of shouting at the audience…and they loved it. Once they put me on as headliner to a racist ventriloquist and his pet duck Dingo McNeil.

I finally got enough cash to rent a small flat across the road which I shared it with my girlfriend at the time; A pole dancer called Crystal Cleavage. I was 12.

My big break didn’t come till I was 16 I went to watch Bobby Davro at the Grand Theatre Swansea. Half way through the first half his left leg suddenly fell off, the audience had no idea he was an amputee! He had kept it from the lime light all those years. He was too embarrassed to go back on, so, sensing a stampede of angry fans about to occur I ran onto the stage and started singing the theme from the Andrew LLoyd Webber musical Whistle Down the Wind. The audience stopped in amazement, they sat back down in cannon, I had them in the palm of my hand…Davro winked at me from the wings and said “your doing good kid” I shouted back “Fuck off you one legged liar” Davro became my mentor we toured together…him in the shadows keeping out of the public eye and me getting the laughs. But In 2007 I got a phone call “I’m leaving you….I have been approached by Eastenders” He said nervously.

I told him he Was a C*NT!! and If he took it I never wanted to see him or his stump again…he took it. ….where is he now eh? Crying somewhere that’s where.

There is my story, who cares what you think.

DONOVAN

What Sign?! I didn't see any sign! {Misc-uity}

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The worlds least effective sign. bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……

[via haha.nu]

The inept girl's guide to cooking.

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The next recipe is an old favourite of mine. I love prawn cocktail. When I was growing up my parents made it for me all the time. It is quick, simple and delicious.

You need: prawns, Heinz tomato ketchup, Heinz salad cream, Lemons, tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce, and Worcester sauce.

To make the Marie Rose sauce mix equal parts tomatoes sauce with salad cream. It’s optional but you can add Worcester sauce as well. Just a few drops.

Wash and cut up the tomatoes, cucumber and lettuce. Place in a serving dish. Add the prawns and the sauce you have made. It’s that easy.

I will leave you with the excellent food recipe and not tell you about nearly burning down my kitchen….

Team Name Shame {Ceri's Column}

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Sports team’s nicknames are very funny, very rarely cool and totally unnecessary. I am a huge rugby fan but supporting my local team has become, since the change of system from domestic to regional rugby, very very difficult. I love our jerseys. I love our stadium. I love our branding. I hate our name.

The Ospreys.

What a shitty name. As far as seabirds go, they’re a bit dull. Quite pretty and live nowhere near Wales. And we named our team after them. Yawn. It doesn’t even have any historical reason. It’s just shite.

But we got off lightly. Stateside, where there is more of a tradition of calling your beloved team something shit, there are a 5 of the best names that just made me piss. With laughter. Not literally. Ugh. Here they are:

  1. Abilene Christian Wildcats – The notion of a wildcat worshipping Jesus and co really made me chuckle. Plus the good people who support this College football team have to endure this illogical beast as the emblem of their team. That also made me laugh a bit.
  1. San Francisco 49ers – This famous American football team’s name has a very curious derivation. Named for the thousands of prospectors who, in 1849, rushed for the gold supposedly lying about in the sandy ground of California. So, you could say, the San Francisco “Went 400 miles westwards to find nothing but dust, caught cholera and got my foot blown off by dynamite”ers.
  1. Brooklyn Bridegrooms (19th century baseball team)/Columbia College Fighting Koalas – Joint winners of Ceri’s Least threatening team name.
  1. Chicago Fire – Seems Ok? Pretty cool? Nope, because in 1871 there was a Chicago fire. The GREAT Chicago fire. Killed thousands. So way to go, Chicago Fire FC of the MLS. Let’s see if we ever see a London Blitz or Chernobyl Nuclear Disasters?
  1. Edmonton Oilers – This Canadian hockey team can only really keep this name for a few years. Soon they’ll be the Edmonton “Remember when there was oil?”-ers.

Well, I'm back!! [DONOVAN]

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No questions and answers, just an article to explain my absence and tell you I am now back ‘safe and sound’…not that you piss flaps cared!

Right basically, I got so depressed listening to your questions that I turned to alcohol and poppers. Then I found myself walking up the M4 at 2:15 on a Thursday morning crying out for my cat who hadn’t returned home for the last 2 nights! To make matters worse I removed her collar to use as strap for a broken watch I found; It was my nieces birthday and she likes pink!

I knew she was probably fox-meat by then so carried on walking…I saw police lights flash in the distance…with that, a truck’s horn bellowed! I dived out of the way (so I thought!) but in the confusion (and the fact my glasses were in my pocket) I jumped straight into the road!! The truck stopped literally an inch away from me I could feel a dying fly’s wings on the bonnet tickle my chin. A man yelled out of the window!! I opened his door and challenged his careless driving. I told him the story of my cat and niece’s birthday, Naturally touched and humbled at my selfless story he offered me a lift! I said “Just take me somewhere that has a bargain booze”…

To cut a long story short I woke up in Holland! Darren Egg (the long distance Truck driver) who later let me call him “Eggy Darren” (privet joke)  let my live in the back of his truck. He brought me food and booze. What a top bloke! I can safely say I spent the best days of my life living in the back of that truck. We got stopped once! ’cause I wasn’t seeking asylum in the stereotypical kinda way (well I wasn’t actually full stop!) Darren (Eggy) Eggy Darren told one Dutch guy with a badge and fantastic moustache that I was his malnourished brother on work experience! He bought it! Despite Eggy (Darren) Eggy Darren spoke with a French accent and I did my best Irish!

Anyway! I’m back now, Darren Is here for another 2 days staying at mine (not in a gay way)

Send me your Questions …sorry Problems…nah screw it lets change this! QUESTIONS! anything you like.

I look forward to reading them and replying. Honestly.

DONOVAN

and

Darren (Eggy) Eggy Darren

Future Eater {Ceri's Column}

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Now is the future. Ok, so that’s the kind of clearly logic-flouting “I’m so po-mo” statements that are barely ever uttered beyond the uber-cool confines of…I dunno…Hoxton? I don’t know where’s cool.

But there is a hint of the Buck Rogers about all these World Cup themed crisps from Walkers. On eating the USA’s “American Cheeseburger” I actually exclaimed “Wow” (the first time since eating some really excellent cuisine in a Michelin starred restaurant…once). I swear I had a cheeseburger in my gob. This made me love them more than any burger I’ve ever had or ever could.

This experience reminded me of a limited edition of Skips released with the theme of a CITV cartoon I cannot for the balls of me remember what it was called – It was about some kids who lived in  a computer game or some shit…it was quite good. Anyway, one of the flavours was donut. They were also divine.

All these “Foods with the flavour of other foods” (catchy) made me think: Why the hell are there not more of these wonderfully futuristic concoctions? I’m not talking flavoured pills from some dystopian World Republic or even a Fantasmagorically Wendiferous Roald Dahl-esque jar of sweeties. I mean crisps that taste of toast. I mean toast that tastes of cheese…like cheese on toast but without the cheese. I want to open a pack of Pringles and taste Apple Crumble.

So…what I’m saying is I want to go to the Fat Duck in Bray…