Because it's got the word 'pie' in it

Oh Lordy, it's another B3ta Question of the Week! This time, the question was "Tell us about crap meals out"

Wedding Supper
The wife and I were invited to a wedding involving some distant branch of the in-laws. A shotgun affair, they'd done the whole wedding on the cheap and the meal was a rather sparse buffet. Naturally, the top table got first go on the food, and we watched with horror as the bride, groom and family (who suffered from what we might generously call "pie retention") tucked in like Mr Creosote on a night out. The two bottles of sparkling wine were necked in about thirty seconds, and Mr Kipling might have been exceedingly proud of his cake, had the chief bridesmaid not gone at it with both hands and a mouth like the opening of the Mersey Tunnel.

I got a lettuce leaf and two dry-roast peanuts, and I counted myself lucky.

By the time the starving hordes returned from the chip shop they'd missed the fight, and everyone had been thrown out of the village hall as a result. We got home just in time for dinner.

A Filk Wot I Wroted.

The Pub Crawler (ttto The Wanderer)

I'm the type of guy who never settles down,
I'm never in one pub, I roam from bar to bar,
I swig'em and I chug 'em 'cause to me they're all the same,
I sip'em and I quaff'em, till I don't even know my name.
They call me the Pub Crawler, yeah, the Pub Crawler,
I drink around around around around.

There's Gin on my left and there's Whiskey on my right,
And Vodka is the drink, that'll be with tonight,
And when they asks me which one I love the best,
I tear open my shirt and show 'em Lager on my chest,
Cause I'm the Pub Crawler, yeah, the Pub Crawler,
I drink around around around around.

(Bridge)
Well, I roam from pub to pub,
I Drink around without a care,
Coz I'm a rat-arsed red-nosed drunk,
With my 12 pints of lager I'm too pissed to care.

I'm the type of guy that likes to drink around,
I'm never in one pub; I roam from bar to bar,
And when I find myself a-fallin' to the floor,
I hop right into that car of mine and drive it off the road,
'Cause I'm the Pub Crawler, yeah, the Pub Crawler,
I'm spinning round and round and round and round...

Boooooing

We at Blog Pie are shocked, SHOCKED to hear that the BBC is to phase out its long-running Grandstand programme, an excuse for men to avoid any jobs around the house for the last 48 years.

While we can take or leave the sporting content, which has frankly died on its arse after Sky Sports bought up anything worth watching, there is one sad loss that will hit the nation right in the cockles.

The Grandstand Boooooing.

The Grandstand Boooooing, for the uninitiated, or those living in the colonies, formed part of the programme's theme tune, and appeared at exactly 12.15 every Saturday afternoon, and heralded the start of the weekend's slacking off for British males for decades.

And now, they are killing it off.

First the Radio 4 UK Theme and now this, crushing the very essence of Britishness under a tide of blandity.

They'll be changing the theme to Grange Hill next.

Ah.

We do not ask the BBC to save Grandstand. Oh no, we can take or leave six hours of snooker, tennis and pro-celebrity stare-out. All we ask is this:

Every Saturday, 12.15pm: Boooooing!

We should get an online petition together. They always work.

I am not mad.

Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati*

I am Canadian. We are known for our macho lumberjack/courier-de-bois/prairie farmer/fisherman types who pride themselves on being able to turn their hand to just about anything. And that's just the men.

So it won't surprise people in other countries that one of our most successful TV shows has been "The Red Green Show," the tales of Possum Lodge and its members, who are led by the title character, Red Green, the man responsible for changing the meaning of "DIY" to "duct tape it yourself."

It's all quite silly, really, and that kind of humour that you either hate or love, but if you can't take the mickey out of yourself, who can you take it out of? Anyone who's ever lived in a small town anywhere in the world has met these characters, more or less.

Red has contributed such conversational gems to the Canadian vernacular as, "Spare the duct tape, spoil the job." and "Keep your stick on the ice!" and my favourite, "If the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy."

And the oh-so-apt Man's Prayer I'm a man... but I can change... if I have to... I guess.




*The Possum Lodge motto - Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati (When all else fails, play dead.)

Update WE CANADIANS DON'T ALL LOOK LIKE HAROLD. JUST THE MEN.

NANUK MADE ME SAY THIS. THAT IS ALL.

Sven

My name-dropping knows no bounds.

I went to a press conference the day before Sven Goran Erikkson announced he was stepping down as England boss, a time when speculation about the manager's future was rampant, and all he wanted to do was talk about the football.

"Time for one more question" said the Sven-wrangler. Two hands went up - mine to ask about Sven's attitude to picking Chelsea players for England who don't even get a game in their enormously expensive squad, and some woman. He pointed, unsurprisingly, at the blonde.

"Do you think," said the no-tail, "they should play football indoors during the winter?"

About 150 hacks, to a man, said "Oh for fuck's sake" under their breath.

I nearly spoke to Svennus.

Crap baby names

I'm an Alistair, and have far too many middle names, so I can identify with this site: Baby's named a bad, bad thing as a warning against the bestowing of rubbish names on children.

I've always thought that people should be made to take exams before they a) vote, b) use the internet or c) are allowed to breed.

This website confirms my worst fears.

A conversation

So:

"I see the BNP are back again, the bastards."
"I blame that Enoch Powell. What a twat."

Then:

"Enoch Powell was such a racist, even his poos were white."
"Except when he had haemorrhoids, then they were 'rivers of blood'."

Easter Sunday dinner...

Try adding peeled plum tomatoes and rosemary to your braised rabbit. Serve with Niçoise olives for a tasty and special Easter treat. As a bonus, this recipe gives you an excuse for not serving chocolate eggs for pudding.
Full recipe

Garfield's Carzy Card Game*

I found a card game I was given, must be, 18 years ago now. Guess who else likes pie? Anyone seen the trailer for Garfield 2 yet?

BTW Ice Age 2? Forget it. Pants.

*Accidental typo in post title reveals the best place to play this.

Taste the difference...

Captions Required!

Birthday

You've just turned forty, so how do you celebrate?

If you're Fraser from Blogjam you mark this particular milestone in your life with two enormous pork pies.


We salute you, King of Pie.

Galloping Pie!

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Originally uploaded by MonkeyBoy69.

Pengor's favourite tipple?

20060209 061b
Originally uploaded by MonkeyBoy69.

Is our favourite penguin trying to take over the world of wine too?

A tale of gromit and woe

Oh dear!

Pengor sings

I gotta be me! I gotta be meeeeeee!!!!!

No autographs, please.

G. Pitney (D'csd)

"Twenty Four Hours from Tulsa" Gene Pitney sang. Then, poor bugger, he dropped dead in Cardiff.

So - is he really twenty four hours from Tulsa, Oklahoma? I decided to find out.

I asked Parcelforce. Could they take a 70kg package from Cardiff to Tulsa in less than 24 hours? No, they cannot. Too heavy, too far, and frankly, we can't be arsed.

In desperation, I turned to UPS. Yes. Yes they can take my large pine box to Tulsa, but could not guarantee 24 hour delivery. And the cost? HOW MUCH?

God bless DHL, then. Four hundred and nine quid, overnight, straight into his lover's cold, dead arms. Sorted.

Poor G. Pitney.

I am not mad.

Pengor the brave

When Penguins Attack.

Pies are cool

Pies are cool
Originally uploaded by Hi! I'm Owen.

Today, at the back of some electronic thingy...

The intrepid Pengor, having arrived at his destination, goes to work. He wasn't going on a vacation, as he told us at the airport, oh no! Here he is, hard at work, intitating the first steps of his evil plan to rule the world. Who knew flightless seabirds could be so devious? See if he ever gets his little fish-slimed, feathered mitts on my charge card again!

PENGOR!!!

There's no-one quites likes elbows...

There's no-one quite likes elbows...
Originally uploaded by MonkeyBoy69.

This elbow was once part of St. Winifred's school choir, and sung on "Grandma, We Love You".

Want PIE!

Want PIE!
Originally uploaded by MonkeyBoy69.

Get pie.

Pukka pie!

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Originally uploaded by MonkeyBoy69.

They are also quite tasty closed...

Dum, dum, dum dum dum dummadummadumma.

Well, what a fantastic night's TV last night.

1. Eastenders. Phil and Grant survive their skirmish with Johnny and Danny (with a little help from Jake). With added brother-on-brother action, the gruesome twosome return to the Queen Vic to enjoy not one but two pies each. Remember, if you have been affected by any of the events shown in that programme, call this number: 999

2. Hustle. The gang of con artists led by the Man from Uncle himself try to impress a wealthy Asian business man by buying him pork and eel pie.

3. Green Wing. The cast are touched by His Noodly Appendages as the Flying Spaghetti Monster himself makes a brief appearance.

There are scary influences in TV land, indeed.

Now, do I dare watch Gardener's World?