Ned's Atomic -

-      Mushrooms

     Normally, any mention of the same would usually involve nattering on about nuclear foofoodillies, but we here at BOOJUM! do so like to go off at tangents whenever possible, so today we are really talking about fungi.  The title, lest you be unaware, is an homage (a sophisticated way of saying "I stole it") to The Goons, and their episode "Ned's Atomic Dustbin", which is a pretty awesome title and concept.

Proof I am not raving.  Not this time, anyway

     The reason for mushrooms?  Oh I thought you’d never ask – 

The root of the problem, pun intended, lies with the Essential Diabetes Cookbook I purchased last week, and the recipe for “Spicy Mushrooms On Toast”, which, whilst not being as rock and roll as “White Punks On Dope”, has better nutritional value. 

I prepped all the ingredients on Tuesday and then threw the metaphorical pottage together last night.  Not having any “ketsup marins” I made do with what looked like a reasonable substitute, “Maggi’s Chilli Sauce”.  What’s that?  Test it and taste it first?  Pshaw!  Get out of here, I threw a few healthy dollops into the witches brew.

     This came back to bite me, with very large sharp teeth later on.  I sat down to dine on the two large slices of toast covered with the mushroom mixture, took a bite and immediately regretted it.  The Maggi sauce had been so hot it was like eating radioactive waste.  I gasped and sweltered through half a slice, then gave up and put the rest in a tub, for disposal at Sellafield, at Wonder Wifey’s suggestion.  She commented that it must have been incredibly hot as this was the first time, ever, that I’d accepted her advice about food.     The Tabbouleh, however, was fine.

The offending article.  I half-expected it to have eaten through the tub...

The Treachery of Weather

I do go on about the weather here in the Allotment of Eden, as it is such an excellent ice-breaker, even in our alleged ‘Summer’.  The fact is that our weather is frequently disgusting without being exciting, although global warming promises to revise this – Conrad cannot wait to see hurricanes and tornadoes as regular phenomena!

     Here is the vista from the bus stop last night; yes, sunny enough, yet with a forbidding cloud lowering above.  Note the fountains at work*.

     Here is that same vista from the bus stop on Tuesday.  You can tell it’s wet.  Note the fountains at work, which is either an hilarious post-modern ironic joke, or something.

A Single Clerihew

Another fruitful session of dog-walking Edna, who had been feeling very sorry for herself earlier in the day – she bumped her head on the underside of the reclining chair, necessitating WW cleaning a slight cut: Dog Not Happy.  Anyway, I was realllllly stuck for a celebrity who rhymed with “Fiend”.  I think we got there.

Caspar Van Diem

Is a coke fiend.

He drinks gallons of the stuff.

I think that’s iniquitous enough.

     There you go, and it might even be true, although given his somewhat ripped physique (you need it to rock those “Starship Trooper” fillums) it can only be Diet.

Close enough

Get You Gone Girl

Be advised that there are SPOILERS ahead.

So don’t blame me if this post sucks all the enjoyment out of the novel “Gone Girl”.  Okay?  Got that?  Spoilers.

Well, I knew how it ended as I’d seen the last half of the fillum.  Now, having read the novel I know how it starts.  I do have a few minor qui – okay major – quibbles about a few details.  Okay several details.  Shall we proceed**?

1      1)    Did neither Nick nor his high-priced lawyer or the police think to DATE the inks used in Amy’s supposed multi-year diary that chronicled her life?  Because we now know that the oldest they can be is a year old – which would immediately shoot her plotting down. 

Probably done via electrophoresis

      2)    That jar of vomit Amy kept as “insurance” which Nick tracked down – why not turn it over to the police or Tanner Bolt (the lawyer)?  It would immediately raise a lot of awkward questions instead of being a failsafe blackmail weapon.  But no.

        3)    The drug testing of hairs.  Conrad is a little hazy on how this works, but does this simply confirm that a drug has been ingested?  Or, damningly,  would it indicate dates when drugs were taken?  Because again that would shoot Amy down.

It doesn't look good for her

          4)    Greta and Jeff.  Amy thinks she can simply accuse them of “telling lies” and she’d implied her ‘kidnapper’ Desi kept her in a motel room, explaining that away.  Sorry, Amy, because you’re not as brilliant as you think you are – all the cops would have to do is talk to the landlady (or the store clerk) or any of the motel transients, to discover that she’d been entirely free from kidnap during her stay.

          5)    Nick didn’t see what I could coming a mile and a month off – Amy getting herself pregnant via banked sperm.  Amy Dunne a mother?  I reserve judgement!

          6)    Amy thought Nick was the only loose end.  Oh dear no.  Recall that chap at the casino whom Desi was rude to.  He could blow her entire story; consider what happens when her book gets published and her photo – and Desi’s – end up splashed all over the media.

Not as brilliant as she thinks she is.

 Here an aside.  Did I mention I was working again?  Yes indeed.  For a Council organisation, in the depths of darkest - ah, but that would be telling.  I was going to add a little dig in the posting about the fountains, being how the council obviously had a water surplus ... and then thought better of it, since I typed nearly all of today's blog on a council PC in the council offices and forwarded it to my G-mail account via the council's Outlook system.

Which brings us to over 1,000 words, which is quite enough waffle for one day.  

Pip pip! 

·        *  Or is it play?

**  I was going to anyway, I was just being polite.