Cooking With Al

Having grown weary of the Host Body’s usual beans/spaghetti/ravioli/butter on toast, I decided that tonight I would seize control and prepare the evening meal.

At a dinner party with Sata…a certain individual, some time ago, I developed a fondness for Chicken & Vegetable Lasagna, so I decided to give it a go.

So, follow these simple steps and in no time at all you’ll be sinking your teeth into a truly sumptuous repast.


Some mushrooms
Couple of onions
Peppers (assorted colours)
Tomatoes, one tin of
Chicken breasts, two or three or whatever
Dried lasagne sheets or the ability to make fresh lasagne sheets
Jar of lasagne sauce (Red)
Jar of lasagne sauce (White)


Every pot, pan, dish, bowl, spoon, spatula, knife and tin-opener that you can lay hands on


1 ) Chop the onions into a large saucepan

2 ) Chop the mushrooms into the same saucepan

3 ) Start chopping the peppers

4 ) Get told off by your Significant Other for using peppers which are clearly well past their use by date

5 ) Have blazing row with Significant Other

6 ) Storm out of the house

7 ) Return with apology chocolates and fresh peppers

8 ) Chop peppers into the large saucepan

9 ) Empty tin of tomatoes onto the worktop

10 ) Swear loudly

11 ) Scoop tomatoes from worktop, into bowl

12 ) Prepare to pour tomatoes into saucepan

13 ) Get told off by Significant Other, who can clearly see the pieces of onion skin, crumbs and assorted detritus which is now mixed in with the tomatoes

14 ) Have second row with Significant Other

15 ) Watch as Significant Other storms out of the house

16 ) Apologise when Significant Other returns with fresh tin of tomatoes and pointed expression

17 ) Empty tin of tomatoes into saucepan

18 ) Turn hob to highest heat

19 ) Keep quiet as Significant Other turns it down a couple of notches

20 ) Crush six cloves of garlic and drop into saucepan

21 ) When Significant Other asks, swear that you only put in one clove

22 ) Begin dicing chicken breast

23 ) Slip with knife, stab self in hand.

24 ) Pull knife from hand, screaming in agony

25 ) Resist urge to stab Significant Other when they say “Don’t think you wanted to do that, did you?”

26 ) Wrap teatowel around hand and begin scooping bloodied chicken into a bowl

27 ) Realise this is bloody stupid even for you, throw the chicken in the bin

28 ) Hunt through freezer for chicken

29 ) Realise that the chicken wouldn’t defrost in time, even if you found any

30 ) Go to nearest shop and buy more chicken, pre-diced

31 ) Fry pre-diced chicken

32 ) Burn pre-diced chicken

33 ) Burn previously diced hand, trying to remove pan of burning chicken from the hob

34 ) Drop pan on foot

35 ) Burn foot

36 ) Jump around on one foot, put one hand on worktop to steady yourself

37 ) Realise that you have actually put your hand on the hob

38 ) Burn hand

39 ) Scream with rage, fling pan at wall, kick oven, punch through cupboard, storm out of kitchen

40 ) Have blazing row with Significant Other

41 ) Apologise and return to kitchen to clear up mess

42 ) Find kitchen on fire

43 ) Call fire brigade

44 ) Get told off by Significant Other for over-reacting

45 ) Watch sheepishly as she throws wet teacloth over what is, in actual fact, a small flame

46 ) Apologise to fire brigade

47 ) Take Significant Other out to dinner

And there you have it!

Obviously, if you are single you’ll need to berate and/or slap yourself wherever you find the words “Significant Other”.

Either way, you’ve got the perfect excuse for a night out, possibly after a trip to casualty.

Bon appetit.

How I love to loathe Nadine…

Today, I sent the following e-mail to Nadine Dorries:

Dear Nadine

I am curious, do you actually believe any of the drivel which you spout or are you doing this for some kind of bet?

Your comments on The Vanessa Show would suggest that, in your eyes, there are girls who invite abuse because they don’t say no.

How many times do you think rapists and abusers hear the words “No”, “Please no”, “Stop”, “Don’t do this” and yet they seem to continue, don’t they?

Yours Angrily,

Al Vimh

I’m really looking forward to my response…

There’s nothing wrong with him.

Let me tell you all a story.

In 1984, the Host Body came into this world but, in keeping with his inability to do anything right, he arrived with his feet pointing in quite the wrong direction.

He was diagnosed with Talipes Equinovarus, “Clubfoot” in laymans terms.

(You know, i’m not sure who this Layman chap is, but he came up with some nifty terminology to make all this medical nonsense much easier to spell)

Anyhoo, his feet were turned inward and upward and a series of surgeries were undertaken to correct this.

The last of these surgeries took place when he was 10 years old.

They very kindly performed the surgery at the start of a school summer holiday so he would be healed up in time for the new school year.

The left foot was pretty good, the right, not so much.

For years he suffered day to day aches and pains but so what?

He was alive, reasonably healthy and tried not to let it affect him.

Up until the age of 17 he attended regular check ups to see how the foot was getting on.
Mention was made of possible further surgery but the choice was left to him.

He decided, as he was getting along OK, to forgo the operation.

And then, “The Incident”

One night, as the Host Body was arseing about doing something tedious, he noticed his left foot was a little swollen.

This was nothing new, his feet had a tendecy to ache and swell when he had been on them for a bit and he’d been doing some decorating that week.

The next day he arose from his slumber, partook of his regular caffeine boost and set about his business for the day.

He tidied, he painted, he broke various household objects.

Come the evening, the foot was very swollen and becoming increasingly painful.

By late evening, the wretched man was writhing in agony on the couch, whimpering like a puppy with a thorn in it’s paw.

Sickened, though I was, by this display of weakness, I had to agree that the man needed medical attention and so I aided the Marital Unit in dragging his carcass to the nearest Accident & Emergency department.

This was the beginning of several weeks of doctors appointments, consultants appointments, clinic appointments and much bitching from the Host Body, culminating in a diagnosis of Osteoarthritis in both ankles.

The arthritis was caused/exacerbated by the fact that Host Body had been walking on a broken bone in the right foot for 10 years or so, after the staples from the last operation had sheered off and the bone failed to heal.

The solution? Major surgery to the right ankle, to fix the broken bone, hopefully make it stronger and take some of the weight off the left ankle.

In August 2010, the Host Body underwent a fusion operation, leaving him with naught but slight up and down movement in the ankle and a foot which looks like a partially digested pork scratching.

Throughout all of this, I would like to say that the DWP were incredibly helpful and understanding.

I would LIKE to say that, but the truth is they have been about as much help as a large pile of excrement.

According to the DWP health professional* who examined the Host Body for his ESA claim, there’s nothing wrong with him and he should pick his lazy arse up and get back to work.

DLA? Pfft. Get knotted, good sir.

After a long fought battle, Host Body WAS finally awarded DLA, ESA is still under appeal.

I would like to point out, right now, that neither the Host Body nor myself are complaining, at this point.

No we’re not, really.

Yes, there’s a lot worse we could be going through.

My point is, he’s not a picture of health but the DWP have been less than useless, at least useless would have some use in there somewhere.
Hmm, clever that…

Anyways, he is obviously appealing the ESA decision but in the meantime, I thought I should write up a “Gizajob” letter, just in case:

Dear Sir/Madam

I write to you on behalf of my Host Body, to enquire as to any positions which may be currently available within your organisation.

Host Body is reliable, to a given value of reliable.

I mean, he can’t actually walk most days and only gets around on his hands and knees so you’d have to either allow him to work from home a lot of the time or make sure you’ve got well padded carpets.

Oh, he’s not good with stairs either.

No, REALLY not good with stairs, he sleeps on the couch and pisses in a bottle, what with the lack of downstairs toilets in the house, so best he only ever has to work on the ground floor.

Also, is there a bus route which let’s off right outside your door? If not, don’t even bother replying, it’s a no-go.

Of course, even with all of the above, he’d only make it into work when dosed to the gills on painkillers but not to worry, it’s not hugely likely that he would be so drugged as to feed himself into any machinery or anything.
Probably not.

Possibly not.

No, i’m sure he’d be fine.

But other than that, he’s an intelligent, hard working individual who would be an asset to any organisation.

Yours sincerely,
Al Vimh

Wow, DWP are right, this guy should get his ass back to work, zippylike.


*For “Health Professional” read “Glassy eyed, slack jawed moron who couldn’t be trusted to put a plaster on a boo-boo”