Censorship and sheep’s legs. (Not suitable for children.)

The lamb leg is a favorite choice of meat for many a Sunday roast; it is easy to make it tender, although it can be a rather tasteless meat and as a result can take little effort to make it a truly successful dish. I am only cooking for two and am only using a half leg but this recipe can be used on a larger joint

The censorship laws due to be brought in 2014 will mean that you have to admit to watching porn and allow consistent monitoring of your browsing if you wish to look at or read any material that is deemed inappropriate by somebody else. This person will be a member of parliament and probably will disagree with you on the subject of what is good for you to read, what is in your personal interest to know and what isn't.

Take a leek; slice and add chopped onions and good sized pair of cloves of garlic; fry these until they begin to brown, releasing their juices. Take the pan off the heat, and while your hot wet vegetables begin to cool you can be preparing your meat. In front of the hard bone, heading towards the center of the meat you will find a natural fatty flange. This can easily be opened using the correct utensil. It is always a good idea to gently push your fingers in to prepare the hole. 

Meaty flange: Things not to Google.

If you want to watch something unseemly then you have to basically tell someone that you are looking at porn; because children might watch things that are perfectly suitable for you, and funnily enough, are not suitable for them) The word unseemly applies to a great deal of things that I find entertaining: Family Guy, Battlestar Gallactica, Archer and the History of Britain.

Put the string on the chopping board, spaced accordingly, and then splay your meat out on top of it. The leeks and onions will now have cooled and it is time for stuffing: the oil will lubricate the insertion and don’t worry about stretching the meaty orifice, as the restraints, once applied, will make sure everything stays tight enough.  

It would be a more acceptable practice for people to ‘opt in’ to internet monitoring; that way the opinion of a self proclaimed Christian would not be guiding what you watch and read. There could be an ‘I do have children and lack the capacity to operate windows’ option, this would immediately bar you from reading anything about Pompeii, Julian Assange or fifty shades of grey.

Violated meat.

It is now time to wrap up the joint; this will form a firm yet yielding meaty mound with oily juices leaking from the opening. Pull the ends of the string and tie in a simple knot; make sure the restraints are tight enough to produce taught, bulging rounded embonpoints that are firm to the touch. With a lubricant of your choice insert the meat into an oven (220 degrees for the first half an hour and then and then an extra half an hour per 900 grams on 160-80 for well done and 20 minutes per 900 grams for medium/rare.)

You can also take this opportunity to put your spuds in.

The fact that someone who believes that Moses narrated he own funeral in the first person, while describing himself as meek is summing up acceptability is not the only risk that the new and bizarre alterations to the internet will bring. A millionaire with no understanding of reality wishes to bring to your information freedom the lack of anything 'violent', presumably whether the violence is carried out by the British government or not. Anything to do with ‘extremist related content’ which is pretty much anything one chooses to disagree with strongly. ‘Suicide related websites’ are out, so presumably so are the Samaritans. ‘Alcohol and smoking’ are taboo; I am fairly certain that most websites on those topics refer to stopping these practices as apposed to continuing them, the latter being easy to achieve without a great deal of research. ‘Web forums’ are not good, although the ones I have read are in fact about a variety of roasting times for differing meats and it sounds very much like a ban on the exchange of information. Last but certainly not least is ‘esoteric material’. Esoteric meaning: ‘adjective intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.’ (Oxford dictionary.) 

Most things posted on the internet are aimed at a comparatively small group of people; be they brony, vegan, musician or train-spotter. This makes the final addition to Cameron’s list the most perturbing of all the frankly mental suggestions put forward so far.

Double entendre: Insert yours here. 

Most things posted on the internet are aimed at a comparatively small group of people; be they brony, vegan, musician or train-spotter. This makes the final addition to Cameron’s list the most perturbing of all the frankly mental suggestions put forward so far.

Indeed.

Steam some cauliflower and broccoli, then place in the top of the oven with a thick layer of Parmigianino reggiano and a sprinkling of pepper; this cheesy side order really compliments a hearty portion of hot meat. 

I would display images of the finished dish, but for your own protection I have decided to refrain; I fear that you would all become rampantly aroused and start fucking each other like wild dogs. 

Next week: I will show you how to jerk pork and finish it off with some cheesy nut muffins.

Pugs and prejudice.

I have volunteered to look after a pug for the weekend; I have seen a lot of pug based internet activity in the past and they have been advertised openly on the front of BBC comedians. This is, however, the first experience I have had in the extended company of one. When I see my guest for the first time he is lunging wildly at passers by and making high pitched noises at them; I am not filled with confidence that the weekend will be a success.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-22886668

Pugs: Racist.

Men 'to blame for the menopause'.

There are numerous reasons why the science behind this seems as questionable as the way it is worded: In 1900 in the U.K the average life expectancy was 50, (obviously there were exceptions) if you began having any sort of hot flush there would probably be a certain level of gratitude that you being provided with the opportunity to do so. So if humans, en mass, didn’t exist at this age, it seems unlikely that any adaptations were taking place in the body of them. There would be no point.

Natural selection does not happen at speed, it is well known for this. Since life expectancy has gone up it is unlikely that any evolutionary leaps (there is no such thing as an evolutionary leap by the way, only evolution, it is a figure of speech) that would have drastically altered how the body ages. Young people are healthier and more likely to successfully breed: Teenagers are rampant. At 16 it did not occur to me to have sex to procreate, I would have slept with a fifty year old, I would probably have slept with her sofa. There is a reason for this.

As I age my sperm count will decrease (which everybody, including me, is grateful for) and my enthusiasm for coitus will ebb. I blame women. If more nineteen year old Russian tennis players frequently sucked me off then I would obviously defy the aging process.

The noises that a pug makes: Not just when food disappears into its bizarrely wrinkled face but just generally. The consistent gurgling and hacking; mysterious gurgling noises are emitted from various points on its barrel like physique. The gurgling noises that he produces are interrupted when there is something on the television that he finds disagreeable: So far these have been Morris dancers, (that were incorporated into some sort of twee detective drivel) that noise that Xena warrior princess makes when she is attacking and anyone black. I find the last on this list ever so slightly disturbing.

I suppose I should be pleased that someone in America is reading this, even if they are reading my e-mails as well. I’m not sure that I am reacting in the right way to the news that government agencies are viewing my behavior, this might be, on my part that my internet behavior is designed to be quite public; I, for example, would quite like people to read this.

I imagine that Facebook is less of a worry for some people; anyone that is clever enough not to be a youth interaction fuckwit for the metropolitan police goes to some effort to consider what they are putting on a public domain anyway. But are we missing the point?

Are we guilty of a western orientated arrogance as we mock countries such as China and Iran for monitoring the internet activities of their populace? Are there too many rhetorical questions?

Bastards: Come in all shapes, sizes and, er, yeah.

The two striking elements of the American government following the internet proclivities of Europeans are based on the modern day lack of a class divide and the old long standing divide between politicians and actual members of the populace. Either the American government has no respect for the inhabitants of any nation, or their government and our own has absolutely no respect for us. The lack of reaction on the part of the sniveling weasels that run this island is embarrassing for them and us. It should make us consider why a coalition was ever formed in peace time and is it as wobbly as the original election of George Bush?

The pug is jolly: He is rolling about on a bean bag and snuffling in a delightful manner; he chases things with his paws like a cat, this might be due to the fact that his mouth is frankly shit at anything apart from making gurgling noises. The gurgling noises are quite cute now I have come to terms with the fact that he makes them at all.  

Eyebrows: Some people can be judged by their appearance.

A friend of mine came to visit on Saturday evening: My friend is from a warmer clime than this dubious end of the U.K. and as a result has a differing complexion. The dog went fucking mental. That is all I am saying on the subject.

In regard to the other observations made in this post: You may form your own opinions, I'm sure you would anyway.



If you hated this blog you would genuinly dislike this book by the same muppet.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Almost-Europe-absence-watching-ebook/dp/B00DB3NGZO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1371400361&sr=8-1&keywords=drew+wiggin

Xenophobia and meatballs.

Should we be embarrassed for the state of affairs that we live in? There seems to be an excuse for those that lived in the distant or even recent past as scientific understanding lacked an accurate explanation for things in general. We had great hopes for the year 2000, flying cars and a utopia based on the pursuit of a higher order. Like in Star Trek. When London caught fire in September 1666 rampant xenophobia ensured that folk rambled around to find a Jew to hang; it was apparently unlikely to have an accidental fire in a big pile of wood without the interaction of a follower of the old faith. Where as we know now that as that big clumsy scarab pushes the sun across the sky the occasional spark is bound to come off and cause trouble.

The great fire of London had an integral background of xenophobia due to recently having attacked the Dutch, consistently fighting the French and the recent reformation of the church; there was a distinct lack of facebook so perhaps folk could lump Catholics and foreigners in to their own vile little pigeon holes because people really did not know any better. Even though a bearded gent who everybody at the time professed to believe in had stood on a hill 1400 years previously and told everyone not to behave in such a frankly gormless fashion; it hadn’t worked and now there were two groups of people who professed to believe in the bearded gent arguing over what he had meant in the first place. But that’s folk for you and there you go.



A diagram of how the sun works.



So an event carried out by individual nutters, or an event that is not really carried out by anyone can lead to the bumbling persecution of a category of people. In the case of Timothy McVeigh who carried out the largest homegrown terrorist attack in America did not lead to the persecution of Catholics, not that I am suggesting it should have done. At this point in time we had progressed to the point that made it common sense that he was an individual that happened to be catholic; his mental intentions were not the mental intentions of the majority of Catholics who were at this point, very noticeably, not blowing anything up at all. This could be due to the fact that Mr. McVeigh’s motives were not religious but political; although one might hope that a couple of commandments might have given him a little pause for thought.

A surprisingly pale bearded gent distributes advice.

There has been a backlash against the Catholic Church as an institution as a whole in recent weeks; once again the news displayed evidence for sexual misconduct and child abuse. The reaction to these events has been anger towards the institution and sympathy towards the Catholics themselves; this seems to be the most logical and kindhearted reaction. Considering how reviled pedophilia is outside of the church; those that commit it under the protective wing of the church have driven people from the institution in droves. No-one has discovered some one to be a Catholic and drawn their children closer while watching the individual with deep disgust and suspicion, I think is my point.

I logged into Facebook the other morning to waste some time and avoid doing anything constructive before I die; at the top of the wall were the words: Kill all Muslims.

I will not patronize anyone by explaining what is wrong with this.

I recently learned the art of stuffing meatballs with mozzarella; I will never look back. I will treat anyone who makes meatballs without stuffing them with mozzarella with scorn. I frown upon their undeveloped ways. While doing this I am very aware that some of these people might be peaceful people; there are nearly two million Muslims in the U.K and probably even more people that make meatballs without a cheese filling; I can tell by a massive lack of events that they are not killing anyone. I have a Google box, a book of face, Wikipedia and none of us have any excuse anymore. The people who live after us will know that we didn’t. 

The future.

I am man!

In retrospect I should have realised that the violence was not inevitable; I should have seen it coming, if only I had the insight into my own psyche that Diane Abbot clearly possesses.

Cheeseburgers are a pretty manly thing to cook for tea, so far so good; I am at peace with myself. Then came fatal mistake: I rolled the mince into dish shapes, lined them with jalapeno peppers, stuffed them with shitake mushrooms and mozzarella cheese. Then mash up a packet of smoky bacon crisps and roll the burgers in the crumbs to form a coating. (This also soaks up excess moisture). I placed the burgers on a baking sheet in preheated oven and then had a massive nervous collapse.

Stabbing pains shot through my head as I clutched wildly at my temples and thrashed around on the linoleum. The day before I had made a bacon sandwich, which was supposed to help, a manly thing apparently your bacon sandwich; but I had ruined it by putting cherry tomatoes in it which had made it all gay. Now I was paying the price.

I scrabbled at the front door and stumbled out into the street: A bespectacled gentleman with a satchel was passing; I immediately punched him savagely in the face sending him sprawling to the floor. A woman came running from her house, so I made an absence gesture with my fist and told her to get her tits out. The shooting pains subsided, I went back inside and slapped my girlfriend in Case she said anything; lets face facts; she should have been cooking in the first place because she has a vagina and, as a result, this was all her fault.



After drawing this overwhelmingly feminine picture of a happy little dinosaur I had no choice but to scissor kick an I.T consultant in the stomach.



     

I have read an awful lot about me this week and I am inherently awful: I am eternally grateful to both Diane Abbot MP and Barbara Ellen, a sort of journalist, if I have completely misunderstood the word journalist and it means that you write down what ever comes into your head, for keeping me posted on my deeply flawed existence.

I had no idea until I read the Observer that men are responsible for wasting the fertility of women by not having children with them because men are selfish. Put like this it sounds a bit stupid; this is because it is. A third of women, according to this publication, do not have children for this reason; Barbara Ellen feels that it is a larger percentage than this; presumably because the elves in her head sang to her that this was the case.

Despite the unquestionable statistics it raises the question of opposites: How many women are forced to have children because the man is selfish? Barbara seems to be under the impression that women who don’t want children for reasons of their own are an ‘urban myth’, which is frankly more sexist against women than anything I have ever said or done.

I don’t really need to point out to any rational person that if only one person out of the necessary two wants children then that person needs to be with someone who does. What if the man wants children and the female party involved does not? Is she being selfish?

Why are children part of an unquestionable long term plan? If you are part of a couple and you think that you would be good parents and a child would enhance your life and relationship and you can provide for this new being then that seems fair. Thinking that having children is something that you do because it is what you do is an outdated concept that lacks all levels of introspection and philosophy: This planet is running low on a great deal of things and people are not one of them.

As an upper middle class journalist/MP, a large majority of the people that actually exist are going to be different to the people that you have actually met. I have taken everything these two people have said into account: I checked with my partner and asked if I was stopping her from breeding, she assures me that no-one needs to do that. She was very graphic about it. All men have the desire to be stereotypically masculine in the same way that women all like pink shoes and talent shows. My girlfriend watches Top Gear while I’m out because I hate it; I like baking, drawing pictures and big lovely bosoms. I am comfortable with this, and would be, even if I loved the cock.