Friday, November 03, 2006

Failure City

Jeez, I've had an arse day. I just don't seem to be able to get a damned thing right.

(1) I'm a news-free zone. I'm doing a bit of news instead of my usual fluff, but news has escaped me. The prospect of a return to the Real Thing excited me for about a day, but then the wheels fell off, as they were bound to. I've called my old contacts, stirred my usual pots, but nada, nyet, fuck all. Even for a half-hearted hack, this is really pathetic. Every idea I've had has crashed and burned or been worthy of nothing more than a five sentence brief. Yes, I'm a failure. Bartender! Double vodka and soda on the rocks, hold the soda, hold the rocks. But bring some crisps, OK? I like crisps.

(2) Trick-or-treaters continue to shun me. I realise it's about four days past Hallowe'en, but the kiddles in my street have finally decided to go trick-or-treating. I suspect this is because their parents are stupid and don't realise you are supposed to knock on doors on 31 October rather than 4 November. But halle-bloody-lujah anyway, eh? I made the effort to buy the chocolate, after all. So, I wandered in from the pub and found four witches, a pantomime horse and a couple of ghosts pootling up and down my street along with a couple of parents (one of whom was wheeling a pusher - was the baby dressed as Beelzebub?) "Yay!" I thought. "I won't have to eat all of the fun-sized Mars Bars myself!" I turned on my front light, put the Mars Bars on the hall table and thought about my doorbell some more, but STILL no-one rang it. I've now been rejected by six-year-olds in manky costumes. Fine, you little shits. I'm having a Mars Bar RIGHT NOW. Do you think it's because they can sense that I don't like children?

(3) I made myself a lazy-arse pizza margherita. "Nuffin' wrong wiv a lazy-arse margheri'a," I 'ear you say (in your fake Cockney accent). Yes, yes, there is. If you drop the fucking thing on the floor, there's a world of misery associated with it. I have no idea how this happened. Toast falls butter-side down. Bread falls peanut butter-side down. This is a well-understood phenomenon - it's just gravity, yeah? Peanut butter is heavier than toast. I'm an Arts graduate, but I can understand that. It happens all the time. How, then, did my pitta-bread-with-tomato-puree-and-oregano-and-grated-cheese-put-under-the-griller-and-toasted-nicely manage to fall PITTA-side down on the kitchen floor? And how the hell did I manage to drop it in the first place? One minute I was unsticking the slightly crusty (and therefore yummy) bits of cheese from the baking tray and the next, hey presto! Floor pizza. Sigh. Somehow it's worse if it looks perfectly normal apart from the fact it's sitting on the floorboards instead of a plate. After all, if it fell cheese-side down, you'd never even contemplate eating it.

And no, I didn't. I'm not that desperate. I've got Mars Bars, remember?

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At 9:46 pm, November 03, 2006, Anonymous ThirdCat said...

go to the apothecary and have a proper margarita...that's what I'd do. You know, if I didn't have to stay home.

also, you should have made that other chocolate stuff you had in that recipe earlier on. then everyone would have been knocking on your door

At 10:13 pm, November 03, 2006, Blogger redcap said...

Ooh, real margarita is a fine idea, thirdcat! I used to be particularly fond of slushy magaritas from the Cactus Cafe, but there I am showing my age - I'm not even sure the CC is still in business, let alone seving slushy margaritas.

Do you think children would go for those chocolate brownies? Perhaps if I'd hung out a sign, it might have got the parents interested...

At 9:38 am, November 04, 2006, Blogger killerrabbit said...

I was a little confused and wondering how you were putting ice, tequila and lemon juice on a pizza. My bad.

I wonder why they avoided your house? Do you have a beware of the dog sign? Maybe they just went to people they know?

At 12:33 pm, November 05, 2006, Blogger Steph said...

You must look too healthy. They prolly thought they'd get apples and shit.

The little bastards didn't avoid my place and totally cleaned out my stash.

I hate Halloween.

At 11:08 am, November 10, 2006, Blogger raoul duke said...

A floor pizza is not all it's cracked up to be!. ba dum tish. Oh, that only worked for the fake arse joke :(

At 9:54 pm, June 21, 2007, Blogger River said...

killerrabbit-cooked pizza base, tequila, lemon juice, freeze, margarita pizza?


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