12 January 2009
Trash TV and yummy dinner
I had a nice weekend featuring large quantities of low-brow television viewing and then a scrummy meal out at Momma Cherri's last night.
There seem to be quite a lot of trashy programmes on at the moment, and I'm throwing myself whole-heartedly into them, as there really isn't much of an alternative. So we watched Total Wipeout, based on the American show Wipeout where enthusiastic contestants run round impossible assault courses, bouncing off things, falling over, and suffering minor injuries; then there was Your Country Needs You, the odd new format for choosing our Eurovision song, but which seems fairly harmless (although Andrew Lloyd Webber is looking increasinly like Emperor Palpatine); and finally Dancing On Ice has returned for another series of graceless ineptitude, tight trousers on the one or two good looking males, and minor to medium-seriousness celebrity wounding. So that was fun anyway.
Last night we went to Momma Cherri's and had another yummy meal, we've been a few times now. I got my meat fix for the month by having chicken wings, chicken drumsticks, AND barbecue ribs (Chris averted his gaze while I made a big sticky mess of myself), and he had much more sophisticated Vegetarian Combo Platter. It's always really nice in there, but I'm disappointed we haven't seen the real Momma Cherri yet. She may be fictional for all I know, like Aunt Bessie.
That's all really. Work is very very dull and I'm having trouble filling the days, but that's nothing new. Oh and Mum and Dad's Indian Burial Curse has returned - their central heating failed for a day and made a loud clanking noise, only to suddenly rectify itself as soon as an engineer arrived and leave no trace of any problem. So now Mum is feeling radiators in an OCD manner every half hour to see if it's still working and ringing me up about it when it all gets too much.
There seem to be quite a lot of trashy programmes on at the moment, and I'm throwing myself whole-heartedly into them, as there really isn't much of an alternative. So we watched Total Wipeout, based on the American show Wipeout where enthusiastic contestants run round impossible assault courses, bouncing off things, falling over, and suffering minor injuries; then there was Your Country Needs You, the odd new format for choosing our Eurovision song, but which seems fairly harmless (although Andrew Lloyd Webber is looking increasinly like Emperor Palpatine); and finally Dancing On Ice has returned for another series of graceless ineptitude, tight trousers on the one or two good looking males, and minor to medium-seriousness celebrity wounding. So that was fun anyway.
Last night we went to Momma Cherri's and had another yummy meal, we've been a few times now. I got my meat fix for the month by having chicken wings, chicken drumsticks, AND barbecue ribs (Chris averted his gaze while I made a big sticky mess of myself), and he had much more sophisticated Vegetarian Combo Platter. It's always really nice in there, but I'm disappointed we haven't seen the real Momma Cherri yet. She may be fictional for all I know, like Aunt Bessie.
That's all really. Work is very very dull and I'm having trouble filling the days, but that's nothing new. Oh and Mum and Dad's Indian Burial Curse has returned - their central heating failed for a day and made a loud clanking noise, only to suddenly rectify itself as soon as an engineer arrived and leave no trace of any problem. So now Mum is feeling radiators in an OCD manner every half hour to see if it's still working and ringing me up about it when it all gets too much.
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