I Got Beat At Speed Eat

 Which Is True
We'll go into that a bit later.  First I have to establish an atmosphere, set a mise en scene, paint a word picture*.  You must surely be aware of the recent Sport Relief charity initiative, which we'll come back to.  The lovely Anna, who is as attractive on the inside as she is on the outside**, almost single-handedly arranged for a day of events for Thursday 24th March, getting permission from Old Nick*** - who sportingly took part himself.
     Earlier in the week Anna came round with a list of activities, enquiring if your humble scribe was interested in any of them?
     "Easter egg hunt?"
     "No."
     "Easter bonnet competition?"
     "Still no."
     "Egg and spoon race?"
     "No.  Again.^"
     "Speed eating competition?"
     "Sign me up!"
     The egg hunt took place first of all, with 200 eggs to find; a word of caution was issued to warn off colleagues not from HR - keep their hands off any eggs they noticed lying around.  There was the bonnet parade and John's bonnet seemed to be suspiciously similar to a British Army helmet; I don't know if he won or not but that helmet will keep out bullets and shrapnel.
     The egg and spoon race proved that supposedly grown adults will misbehave like errant schoolchildren if they get the chance, with everyone cheating madly.
     "But Conrad," I can hear you say.  "The speed-eating?"
     Yes yes yes, I was getting to that.  The five of us had a ten minute deadline to finish off a Macdonald's meal: a soft drink, large pack of fries, a burger and 20 chicken nuggets.

Left to Right:  Aaron, Gareth, Your Humble Scribe, Catherine and Kirsty

     Tom had declared how this challenge didn't seem that hard and then chickened out.

Old man scorning the risk of a heart attack

Conrad ladling Curry Ketchup on the burger

     The burger was quite horrid, leathery bun and rubber burger, so I doled out curry dip on it to help it go down.

Gareth's eating a model of dignity

     In fact Aaron won easily, in about 7 mins 30 seconds. Catherine and Kirsty both dropped out, whilst Conrad continued to shovel fries into his gob with all the grace of a hungry hog.  So - I came second!

Proudly displaying my medal

     Perhaps predictably I didn't have a proper meal later that night, instead nibbling on a bag of crisps and a bowl of ice cream.
     It occurs to me that if Anna wanted to make this a real challenge she could have used milkshake instead of a soft drink, because that sits in your stomach like a stone.  A sweet stone yet a stone nonetheless.

The Metro: 60 Seconds - Eddie Izzard
You may not like Eddie's comedy, as nothing is as subjective as humour and Conrad has found himself laughing like a drain at subject matter that other people frown over. 
     However, you cannot do anything but admire the man for his Sport Relief effort: 27 marathons in 27 days.  That's over 700 miles, and he ran two on the last day.  Not bad for a middle aged action transvestite!

Salute that man!
(Also, is this at Bovington?)

More Of Food
Today the family convened at Yo! Sushi in the Arndale Centre, Manchester.  This was a belated treat for Tom, Darling Daughter's boyfriend, as he had never been, and neither had your modest artisan.  The main point of Yo! Sushi is their conveyor belt that carries individual sushi dishes past the diners:

Thus

     Once provided with a menu, you pick what dishes interest you.  Personally I was impressed with the seaweed dish and would recommend it.  Tom and DD ended up wrestling with a Chocolate Gnocchi, trying to cut it in two without a knife.  Art?

And managing it

Bus Station Coda
I forgot to mention this in my venomous diatribe of yesterday.  When the bus finally arrived, the bus station doors jammed.  Art?

Less appealing in real life

     Normally the sliding doors are triggered by an infra-red sensor, and they will gap apart if a few dust motes so much as dance before the sensor, and I'm certain I've seen moonbeams set them off.
     Not last night.  Three men pulling on the stuck doors couldn't shift them from their stuck state, signalling through the stuck door to the First Bus driver that they couldn't open the stuck doors, as they were stuck.  Do I get the point across?  The driver, aware that his own little fiefdom extended no further than the doors of his bus, displayed not the slightest interest in whether the bus station doors were open, closed, mid-way there or purloined by aliens.
     Conrad went round the outside to board the bus, rashly daring the night to throw up another challenge.



* Describe things.  Translation from pseud to English courtesy Mister Hand.
** Honestly.  I've seen the x-rays.
*** Our manager, not The Devil.  There are several Nicks on the floor and he's the oldest.
^ You have to admire her politeness and persistence in the face of such charmless truculence.