Where to begin with this one? First no names, probably. So…I went to a vegetarian cookery class on Saturday with mate, Gina (pseudonym). Two previous classes had been fun, hands on, chatty with nosh and a glass of wine at the end. All good. We thought.
I got to the bottom of a tasty bowl of Covent Garden leek and potato soup when I saw what looked suspiciously like a bit of chicken. “EEEEEK!” I shrieked, “I’ve got a bit of chicken in my soup, Richy Rich!” “Uh? That’s outrageous”, replied Richy. Given that I ain’t knowingly* eaten meat for over 20 years, I thought that was a bit of an understatement. A lot more tasty swears came into my mind, but given that this blog has a more than healthy smattering of swearsies, I won’t include them here.
Oh boy. Another travel-tastic tale. For once, I am not responsible for this. It was those bastards at Air Canada. I was flying to Ottawa. So, so excited to be on an all expenses paid, invited trip. Anyway, since boarding, I’d had a tasty lunch; a lentil curry and rice jobby. I watched some tv, had a doze and a few hours later got woken up by the air steward putting a box on my tray. It was a funny box, like a happy meal box. No one around me had a box. “Wow”, I thought, “I must have won a prize. This is a truly great day”. (New readers should take a shufty at this earlier post. Seasoned readers will probably be wondering when I’m going to stop thinking this). Continue reading
mydaftlife 