Friendship: Newt the Wonder Frog ... this one's for you

* Warning: this post may contain traces of unabashed, soppy, emo-like utterances


Well what a week it's been, blog-chums! Events of the last few days have been unexpected and heartwarming and have left me "all toastie inside ... and leaking!" as the dear old Grinch would say.

Here's another good quote ...

"and they say the internet is such a solitary experience, that you don't make friends, only 'cyber' friends that you'll never interact with. I think this blog (one among many) proves the lie of that statement"

Know who said that? The very cool and excellent Tennyson ee Hemingway from the equally cool and excellent andy warhol goes shopping blog, that's who. He left that comment on my last post. Wasn't that a nice thing to say?

(Ok, brace yourselves, here comes the soppy part ...)

And I have to admit that I am constantly amazed and delighted by the people who wander into my little corner of the blogosphere and welcome me into theirs in return. They are funny, intelligent, fascinating (some of them are downright sexy! ... yes, I'm talking about you ... oh, er, no, not you *nervous grimace*, the person ... yes! you! How you doin? *suggestive eyebrow waggle*) and generous to a fault. I like to think that I've made some real friends in the last few months and hopefully will continue to do so. Maybe I'll never meet them in person but so what? It doesn't detract from the value of a kind word of support or the sharing of a point of view or a joke, does it?

Now, c'mon everybody, let's take our clothes off, (well, except for that guy there ... he should stay clothed at ALL times) light some candles (careful men, we don't want any unnecessary singeing) and have a group hug whilst singing along to the Golden Girls theme!

Beautiful!

(Ok, and we're done with the soppy ... )

I want to tell you about my number one blog-chum, Trinity.

But first I guess I should set the scene ... I was a bit naive when I first started blogging, I didn't have a clue what to do and I didn't know anybody else who had a blog to ask questions and advice of. So I just merrily typed and posted away, until one day I noticed somebody had left a comment!

Now, wouldn't it be awesome, in a glitzy, Hollywood movie kinda way, if that first comment had come from Trinity? Thus starting a beautiful friendship in a cool, fateful manner ...

Yeah, but it wasn't him.

I had to go FIND HIM!

Tsk!

Deciding that comments were kinda cool, and realising that there were like, you know, other blogs out there, blogs I could like, you know, read 'n' stuff I took the brave step of searching for like-minded souls, kindred spirits, people who liked zombies.

Yep, that's hows I found him, via zombies (well, via Shaun of the Dead on his profile to be exact ... I later searched on Anchorman, fact fans, and found Dr Zibbs, "what kind of weirdo calls his blog That Blue Yak???" I wondered, then it was a short skip and a jump to leaving a few smart-arse comments on his blog, stalking his funniest commenters until they came and checked me out, and then stalking their funniest commenters etc ... and Bob's yer uncle, blog history was made!)

Anyway, back to Trinity ... the title of his blog, Newt the Wonder Frog's Lily Pad caught my eye. I like things and people that are quirky, and when I saw "inappropriate sniffing" in his list of interests I knew I had to take a look at his blog.

What I found was a man on a mission.

(Cue mysterious, leitmotif)

Trinity was and still is working his way through a book entitled "This Book Will Change Your Life", I'll let him describe it in his own words, as quoted from his "Day 1" post (which you can read in full by clicking on the above mentioned book title):

"It has a daily task that is extremely odd, random, dangerous, etc and you are to perform the tasks daily to add some new life to your life. Thus, today being the first day of the year, you can see how I believe fate had something to do with me finding this book.

Anyway, I am going to do my damnedest to finish this experiment and you should see at least one new blog a day chronicling what the hell this book is telling me to do. I will be as thorough as possible and hopefully I can stick to this"

I thought the whole thing was kinda cool and unique, it captured my imagination and has done so ever since. Plus, I soon realised that Trinity was indeed a kindred spirit, if a bit bonkers, and there I was, hooked to him and his blog.

Now, a few months later, and a whole lot wiser, I believe THE BOOK (cue extremely sinister leitmotif) was possibly written by sadistic, devil-worshipping, 14 year old boys with a penchant for toilet humour and Scientology.

THE BOOK is pure evil. (cue extremely sinister leitmotif)

Here are some of the things THE BOOK (cue extremely ... oh, whatever, you get the gist) has demanded of Trinity (click on the links to read the corresponding post):

Give himself an enema

Lurk in dubious chat rooms with strange women

Build his own cross and suffer as Jesus did: Yep, he really did, on Good Friday too ... there's even pics to prove it

Family Love Day: (actual quote from THE BOOK) "Incest works well for animal breeding, so why not for you? Today explore your deeper feelings toward a cousin, a sibling or a parent perhaps. Taboos, after all, are made to be broken" ... !!! Scared yet?

Take a pregnancy test by wiping pee on one of the pages


And that's just the tip of the horrifying iceberg. But to his great credit, and I truly admire him for it, he has stuck with THE BOOK through thick and thin and has faithfully carried out all that was asked of him, with very little complaint or use of illegal substances.

(I would have had an exorcism performed on the bloody thing months ago and then burned it at the stake, just to make sure)

Mind you, it actually gave Trinity a task on Monday that worked out pretty well.

He had to send a message in a bottle to somebody.

He mentioned in his post that he had done so accordingly, sending it to somebody who not only read his blog but who also had a blog of their own. He refused to say more until said person received the message, when all would be revealed.

The subsequent post comments went something (actually) like this:

Girl Interrupted: Oooh! I hope it's me! I hope it's me! I hope it's me!!! Ps: I am going to be royally PISSED if it isn't me! :)

Trinity: I hope you aren't too pissed.

Girl Interrupted: :( *sulk*


I think his leitmotif should now be changed to "Poker Face" by that aptly named GaGa woman, because yesterday I got a delivery! *smug, triumphant grin*

It was in a FedEx box and everything! I've wanted a FedEx delivery ever since I saw Castaway, and here it was, a dream come true, and I hadn't even had to be traumatically sucked out of a plane or form a close, emotional bond to sports goods. Woohoo!

Fortunately the Swiss Family Manson weren't around, so I got to open it without fear of interrogation.

This is what I found ...


A real message in a bottle! It made up for all the disappointment of never finding one during all those warm, idyllic summers of childhood spent at the seaside, combing the beach for treasure and gazing wistfully out to sea. Wondering if anybody had found my own, childishly scribbled messages of "Help! I'm a prisoner in a toothpaste factory!", "I'm coming to get you, Love Jaws x" and "Tammy Laine smells like poo" (apologies Tammy if you ever happen to read this, it was personal, but I was six at the time, and to be fair, I thought everyone smelled of poo).

Ah, happy days!

So next I decided to read the message. Except ... do you know how hard it is to get a poxy message out of a poxy bottle? It's BLOODY HARD! But finally, after an hour of swearing, getting my finger stuck in the bottle, swearing louder, cursing people foolish enough to send a message inside a bottle ("Could've sent an email ... but nooooooo! WTF is wrong with just sending an IM anyway, FFS!!!" ... Gwen would've been proud of me) and unsuccessfully looking for a hammer with which to smash the message out ...

Ta-Dah!!


And here's the message (you'll probably need to click on the pic to enlarge it enough to be able to read it ... unless you have superpowers, which would be pretty cool and fancy *cough*show-off*cough*) ...


Isn't that lovely? It's almost as though he really likes me or something!

As mentioned in the letter, Trinity had also enclosed a really cool comic book, Fables: Legends in exile. This was such a surprise, Trinity is an aficionado of comics (geek) and is pretty obsessive (nerd), which I've never really understood, and may even have teased him about on occasion, having never seen a proper comic book or understood the charm and the allure.

This was my first and I loved it straight away ...


The plot basically takes fairytale characters (known as Fables) who have been forced out of their own lands by the sinister "Adversary", and puts them in New York where all manner of gruesome yet interesting things happen ...

Bloodfest MUCH.

I want to quickly show you some of the artwork too, because for me it's one of the best things about the book.


Cinderella (meets Kill Bill) ...


Not sure who this is, possibly the Black Forest Witch (terrible posture!) ...



Rose Red (giving new meaning to the phrase "keep your hair on!") ...

Awesome, eh?

But not as awesome as Trinity, because he'd even sent me snacks to munch as I read my comic book (Cheetohs and Red Velvet Cake! Mmmm ... who needs vegetables?) ...


I'm such a lucky girl!

So thank you Trinity, you totally rock ... you're like the brother I never wanted! You nag me and act as my very own Jiminy Cricket (not always a good thing, from my point of view) but you also make me laugh and smile, you're a good guy, you like lots of the same things as me (which obviously makes you cooler) and I can talk to you about anything and everything ... it's also kinda cool that you've been there with me, almost from the beginning.

But not as cool as liking zombies.

I really do have the greatest blog-chums, they've turned my dull and dreary week into a festival of fun and smiles, which is very much appreciated.

(It's ok, it's not a full-on soppy moment)

So, thanks to friendship you've had three posts out of me this week, giving us all an invaluable lesson I think, something we can learn from ...

If you want more posts, you have to send me cool stuff.


As Trinity would say ...

That is all.

Hey Gwen ... wanna see my muffins?

Author's note: Since posting I've received a few messages from people saying they can't see the full post :( Apologies to anybody experiencing the same problem, being technologically challenged I simply don't have a clue what the issue is or how to fix it ... it seems you need to click on the actual post link (ie click on the post title) to be able to view it properly ... that works for me, anyway. If you still can't view it, let me know and I'll try re-posting it. Sorry folks x


'ello!

I know, two posts in one week, eh? I can almost hear that annoying French lady in the Ferrero Rocher adverts exclaiming "Ah Madame, Wiz ze blog posts yuh ah spoiling uz!"

The thing is my "Cake in the Community" care parcel arrived (Brief recap: the truly scrumptious Gwen posted about making Red Velvet Cake, which you can read here, I was intrigued and asked for the recipe but Gwen went one better and offered to send me a cake mix, which of course I eagerly and gratefully agreed to, having seen the ridiculously lengthy and complicated "make it from scratch" recipe) all the way from St Louis, and in record time! Gwen only sent it last week and given the general pantsness (hey! that COULD be a word!) of postal services these days I wasn't really expecting it until, oh, I dunno, 2011.

So imagine my squeaky glee when the postman delivered a parcel with my name on it!

First I had to deal with the Spanish Inquisition (Ha! Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! ... you know I had to do it, right?) i.e. my family, who wanted to know why I was receiving parcels from America, what was in the parcel (well if you STFU and let me open it you'd find out a whole lot quicker), who had sent me the parcel, was it a man or a woman (I could see my Mother planning an international wedding in her head) and had I joined some kind of religious cult.

So a couple of hours later ... I finally got to open my box of delights

Oooh!

The Swiss Family Manson crowded round to take a better look at the goodies within, but seeing a lovely mauve envelope in the bottom of the box I pounced on that first and sure enough it was a cool card from Gwen with a picture of the McDonalds sign the beautiful Gateway Arch on the front.


Here's what she wrote (click on the pic to see it in its full glory ... oh, and in case you're wondering, the picture is of the Armadillo groom's cake from Steel Magnolias, a classic example of Red Velvet Cake ... and not some grotesque animal autopsy) I heart this card, doesn't she have the coolest handwriting? ...


So on to the contents of the box ... this is what me and my mother and grandfather saw first ...

... I only wish I'd had a camera handy to capture the look on their faces.

Grandfather: But why is it ... er, urgent?


Haha! And it got better ...

... clearly Gwen has heard of my notorious baking reputation


Next came the all important chocolate mouse poo (as mentioned in the card) ...


... by this stage in the proceedings there was nary a whisper from the folks, I think they'd witnessed more f-bombs than they'd seen in weeks, if not months, chuckling quietly to myself and reflecting on the fact that silence IS golden in some situations I reached for the next delicious item ...


... Cupcake dicks? thought I, somewhat perplexed.


And finally, the lovely and ever-thoughtful Gwen had even sent the muffin cups! She'd literally thought of everything! (sadly, no f-bomb on these ... Americans must take their baking cups extremely seriously)
*Really wish I'd overcome laziness and given myself a French manicure now


Anyway, I could hardly wait to start baking, which no doubt would stun anybody who knows me into shocked silence. (I'm quite a good cook but I don't have a very good history where baking is concerned, invariably if I attempt to make cakes I end up telling friends that I made biscuits. Very flat, slightly grey biscuits. But that's better than very flat, slightly grey cake, right?)

So I got all my ingredients together, cake mix, vegetable oil, eggs and water and chucked it all in a bowl carefully beat it all together as directed and ooh'ed and aah'ed as the mixture turned a vibrant shade of red ...

Once the cake mixture was ready it was time to transfer it to the cups. This is an especially tricky stage if you suffer from a mild form of OCD; the compulsive urge to allot exactly equal amounts of mixture to each cup and to avoid at all costs any unsightly spills means that it can take a very (very) long time.

Ahem.

There was also a scary moment when I'd filled 12 cups and had another 12 to go, but on looking at the bowl I realised that its contents hadn't seemed to have decreased in volume one little bit! You know in the film "Jaws"? The "We're gonna need a bigger boat" scene? It was just like that.

In the end I filled 30 muffin cups.

That's a lot of muffin.

Next I popped them in the oven and was soon tormenting my family with the mouth-watering smell of freshly baking cake mixture. The house smelled just like you imagine those posh, show-home places they feature in magazines like "Country Living" and "House & Garden". All I needed was a twin-set, a cute little apron and a lobotomy and I could have been mistaken for one of those 50's housewife types.


Ping! 19 minutes later they were done to perfection (well, they weren't badly burnt or flat) ...



Then they had to cool. Do you know how hard it is to resist hot, delicious, freshly baked muffins?

Me either ... I just thought "Sod it!" and ate one. Self control is for ... people who aren't me. And I'm glad I did, because it was totally lush. Really light and moist, it just melted in my mouth. Almost like somebody who was really good at baking had made it, instead of me.

Once cooled it was time to add the cream cheese frosting (my Grandfather says I should give up any dreams I might have once cherished about being a plasterer) ...

... like my groovy cow cookie jar? (I'm thinking now that maybe I should have tidied up before I took these pics)


Next came the delicious "chocolatey mouse poo" sprinkles. It was at this stage that I came to understand exactly why the cream cheese frosting was so "fucking urgent" ... apparently unless you add the sprinkles straight after you've slapped on the frosting, the surface dries and your sprinkles have nothing to adhere to, leaving you futilely trying to get your mouse dropping to stick instead of just rolling straight off the top of the muffin and making you swear like Gwen a trooper and shouting "GAH!" a lot.

Finally though, I was all sprinkled out ...


At the end of a long but satisfying couple of hours it was time to relax and reap the fruits of my labour with a nice cup of tea and a copy of Steel Magnolias on dvd ...


In between blubbing at the sad bits in the film and stuffing my sticky little face with gooey muffins, I raised my teacup in salute to gorgeous Gwen who had single-handedly, and at an impressive distance of several thousand miles, given me an evening of fun and laughter (with the odd patch of sniffly, girly, sobbing).

So thank you, Gwen :) the only thing that could have made it more fun was if you'd been here too x





Ps: Bet you thought I'd forgotten the groovy little cupcake picks (not dicks as previously thought) ... not a chance. Here's some I put on a plate, ready to entice my family members and anybody else who happened to visit ... don't they look fun AND yummy?

And since I didn't realise it was my new blog-chum Jerrod's birthday until after the event, I designated one particularly fine muffin as being especially in his honour.

Happy belated birthday, Jerrod!

Come on in & make yourself at home (try not to steal anything) ...

Hello, blog lovelies! Hope July is treating you well and that all is fine and dandy with you and yours.

My good chum Mr Condescending tagged me in his latest post, which you can view here. Apparently we're all invited to his mock-Tudor mansion for a party ... isn't that nice of him? (no puking on the oak beams, please). He's cordially said we can snoop through his book shelves (he only reads Playboy for the "articles", apparently), rifle through his dvd collection (I have no idea what "Three's Company" is, I'm a little confused about why there's SIX people on the covers, but I'm sure it will prove to be amusing ... after we've cleaned out his booze cabinet) and gorge ourselves on the finest food and drink in NYC (I'm trying not to be too upset about the shellfish stew which will KILL ME).

Anyway ... nice gesture, huh?

Well, it would be, if it wasn't for the fact that there's a big ol' stipulation attached that says anybody partaking of his magnanimous hospitality then has to throw a similarly big party (in his honour, no doubt ... doesn't he seem just the type who would demand his very own throne to sit on? While he condescendingly mocks the rest of us and takes multiple photos of our fat bums and dodgy-yet-comfy sportswear when we're not looking, just so he has post material for his blog-theatre of cruelty?).

To be honest, I was tempted to say no at first. I figured I'd just go along, drink all his booze, mock his dvd's, chuck a TV out of a window and then disappear into the night like a super-cool rock star type.

But then I thought ... "Hmm! Why not?" After all, July is the perfect month for summer parties, I've just sold a kidney on e-Bay so I'm a bit flush in the old pocket ... and it would give me something semi-fun to post about.

So ... you're all invited to my place! Woohoohooo! Partaay!


By the way, you'll recognise my house by the colourful "Happy Bar Mitzvah" balloons (aren't jumble sales fab?) and the 20 ft inflatable Santa on the roof (it seemed like a good idea ... at Christmas)


Please wipe your feet before you come in ...



Watch out for the vicious guard dog (a terrifying mix of Wookiee, Womble & Yorkshire Terrier) ...




Now, before we get this party started, Mr Condescending has demanded a guided snout round (nosey bugger), for a start he wants to know what my favourite books are. (This actually drove me mad, I'm a fanatical bibliophile and have hundreds of books all over the house, it was practically impossible to narrow it down to one shelf) Anyway, er, here's a selection ...



... I know Girl With The Pink Teacup will be thrilled and proud to see that I have the big, hardback copies of Harry Potter

... historical biographies and fantasy fiction (could I be a bigger geek? I think not)


I had a similar problem with films *gives Mr C the evil eye* (I'd give him the "Finger of Death" if I knew how to do it)

There's just too many to choose from ...


Here are a few faves (although a lot of my absolute favourite films are not included here ... frankly, I was just too lazy to sort them all out) ...


I'll just leave you to have a look through them for a couple of minutes whilst I go and tell Diane, Vic and Dominica to stop jumping on the beds ...


Ok, I'm back, now let's crack on with the party, I thought we'd have it in the garden (mind the wheelie bin) ...



By the way, whilst I agree that it's not a party until something gets broken, please could you try NOT to break the good stuff ... I have a whole cupboard full of tacky old tat given to me over the course of several birthdays/Christmas' by my ex's mother, if you'd like something destructible to chuck around.

Oh, and the plants are strictly for decoration ... please don't try to smoke them (yes, I'm looking at you John Smith and Prunella).


Now, "What's for dinner?" I hear you ask eagerly.

Well you won't be getting traditional English food, that's for sure. It's ok, but quite heavy and stodgy and not very exciting in my opinion. Plus, I think some of my US guests might find the inclusion of such things as "Toad in the Hole" and "Spotted Dick" on the menu as a bit off-putting. Quite understandable.

My tastes in food are quite Mediterranean, I like lots of different dishes for people to pick and choose from, pasta in lovely light sauces, creamy risottos, plenty of fresh vegetables and salads with spicy dressings, a banquet of cheeses, warm bread, plump little olives and of course, plenty of wine.

If you like that kind of thing then I heartily recommend this book to you ...


It's a true account of an American lady's experience of buying and renovating an old farm house in Cortona, Italy. Whilst I didn't particularly enjoy the main narrative I did love the simple and delicious recipes she includes as part of the book, traditional dishes that she learned from the local people such as Pea and Shallot Bruschetta, Semolina Gnocchi, Rich Polenta Parmigiana, Sage Pesto, Hazlenut Gelato and Cherries Steeped in Red Wine. Mmmmmm!


Hang on a second though! Why don't you have a drink yet?

There's red or white wine for the more discerning palates, and vodka, which I'll use to make Sea Breeze cocktails later (one part vodka, one part pink grapefruit juice, three parts cranberry juice, served over ice in a tall glass with a slice of lime)


Hey! I can see those nervous glances! Don't worry ... there IS more alcohol than this! (Sheesh! Big bunch of lushes!) Oi! Mo Stoneskin! (or should we call you Mr Albali now?) I've told you before about guzzling the cooking sherry!

Er ... can somebody please take those balloons away from Dr Zibbs? ... you might want to wait until he's got his clothes on again first :/ (BTW - does anybody know why he came dressed like Corey Feldman and keeps saying "Hee Hee, Jamon!" in a high pitched voice?)


Anyway, inspiration for tonight's menu has come courtesy of these two books ...



By way of a starter there will be English Onion Soup with Sage & Cheddar ...


Or, Sweet Pear & Apple Salad with Bitter Chicory and a Creamy Blue Cheese Dressing ...



Or, Tortelloni di Spinaci with Sugo al Burro e Pomodoro (Spinach in ickle pasta parcels with a butter and tomato sauce, lightly sprinkled with parmesan) ...


For main course there will be a Italian Ham & Spinach Tart ...


and Baked Cauliflower & Broccoli Cannelloni ...


or Hot Smoked Salmon with Chilli Salsa ...



For dessert there'll be Tray Baked Meringue with Pears, Cream, Toasted Hazelnuts & Chocolate Sauce (well you knew there had to be chocolate in there somewhere)



or Eton Mess (meringue, cream and strawberries ... just so you can say you had something traditionally English as well as uber-yummy) a real summer classic


Apologies for the quality of the pictures, I know they're a bit pants, I considered actually making all the dishes and getting better shots, but I couldn't be arsed to go to the supermarket to get the ingredients. Or to do the cooking bit.

Oh! And there might also be Red Velvet Cake muffins if I get my care package from gorgeous Gwen in time ... in which case there will be a cheesey sob-fest tribute at some point in the evening, where we will stuff our happy little faces with cake whilst watching Steel Magnolias and speaking in the manner of one of its many, glorious characters ... but you can't be Clairee (already bagged by me) or Ouiser (to be played to perfection by Gwen).

For entertainment I've arranged the following:

• The Jules (Happy Belated Birthday to him btw) will present us with a slideshow of all the fascinating places he's travelled to and mocked, snappily titled "Around Selected Parts of the World in Considerably More Than 80 Days".
• Wordsx3 is going to give a fascinating insight into the mind of a frustrated and much copied (allegedly *cough*) creative genius, entitled "Dude! Where's My Kudos?"
  
• Trinity is giving a monologue on his personal interpretation of art, entitled "Every Picture Should Have An Amusing Moustache In It"
  
• And finally there will be a breathtaking fireworks display (well, sparklers) at the end of the night (*Note to self: Make sure Kristine does indeed wait in the van and is NEVER left alone with the cat and the fireworks at any point in the evening).

Anyway, top up your drink, grab a plate of food and go mingle with the other guests. Go! Shoo! No peeing in the pot plants though, no staring at Cora (who is on MY team if we play Pictionary) and her fella, Scope if they start making out in the corner ... actually, no molesting folks in any way ... unless you're specifically asked to ... in which case, get a room! But not MY room. And stay out of my underwear drawers.

If there's any bad behaviour then Lopez is going to make you drop and give her twenty ... you have been warned!

Now then, who's up for a game of naked Twister?