as promised...

Because of a certain Pajiba Love column it gives me great pleasure to present to you: my mother's amazing toblerone ice cream recipie:

Toblerone ice-cream

115g/4oz Milk or dark Toblerone

50g/2oz plain chocolate

400g/14oz fresh custard sauce

150ml/5 fl oz double cream

1 x 15ml/ 1 tbsp clear honey

1 x 15ml/ 1 tbsp sweet sherry

• Break up chocolates and place in heatproof bowl set over a pan of simmering water. Stir until melted


• Stir melted chocolate into custard.


• Whip cream to same consistency as custard and fold in.


• Stir in honey and sherry


• Pour mixture into shallow freezer container and freeze for about 1 hour until frozen 1” in from sides of container.


• Beat until smooth and return to freezer


• Freeze until firm


• Leave out for about 30 mins prior to serving to allow to soften.

Totally worth the effort.

Enjoy!

ps. Drinking (and dancing) with Joker on Friday gave me a two day hangover. I spent my entire weekend in bed reading Terry Pratchett novels only occasionally shuffling downstairs to make myself a glass of squash to drink (slowly, for fear that it would make me throw up). Amazingly good magic. I am now broke and still kind of never want to drink again. All in all a fabulous evening with a kick ass girl and I now have to add Thirst the London branch, (The Oxford branch of said cocktail bar is where a sixteen year old Alex tasted her first gin sling. It was also the bar where a girl I knew in school lost her virginity. With a barman. In the toilets. Classy. This was not me I hasten to add, I left getting wasted and doing bad things in public bathrooms until I hit college - in my defense it was a classy place, with a sofa and everything. Although it was still technically the men's room. OK, I'm stopping now) to my list of venues for debauchery...

Superb.

memory loss bars: Shish

There are several bars that have a bad, bad, bad effect on me. In fact, such a bad effect on me that I can't actually remember leaving them. Ever. It occurred to me today, while no doubt terrifying the lovely lady I will be meeting this evening (the Pajiban known as joker), that I reference these delightful places rather often and yet never really explain. So here's one of them, hopefully others will follow.

So today I'm going to talk about Shish. This is the bar that I dragged a poor sick Genny to it is also the bar that is involved in two of my favourite debauched stories: The Conclusion of the Geezer (^TM Manda) Saga and The Time I [redacted] With My Ex-Boyfriend's Ex Girlfriend In An Entirely Passive Aggressive Fit of Vengeance Against The Ex Mr The Odd, Which Was Kind Of Pointless As I Still Don't Think He Knows About It.

Where to start? Shish is a cocktail bar that serves gorgeous and unusual cocktails with middle-eastern and sometimes oriental twist. Now, as most of you already know: I am a drunken lush. I usually become inebriated through a finely honed feedback cycle which involves being around tried and tested drinking buddies who will encourage me to drink more and more (the kind of people who buy a bottle of wine as a round between four of you which seems like a good and sensible idea until you realise that to make it even you have to buy a bottle each and inevitably I will drink more, faster than the others meaning that by the end of the evening I will have probably drunk a good two bottles to myself which leads to headaches). This does not apply in cocktail bars. I could be on my own and get wasted within half an hour because if you present me with a cocktail menu I am like a kid in a candy store. I cannot have the same drink twice in once evening leading to hefty amounts of mixing and because I love the taste of most alcohol I can drink them as if they were juice. Not a good combination at the best of times.

And here's where the problem lies- I can't actually tell any stories about these bars because while I remember entering them and certain specific events during the time I was within them. Some things I remember from the assorted evenings I have forgotten leaving Shish:

• Getting into a cocktail race with my friend Rich


• Winning


• Losing the rematch


• Discussing the girl I suspect my ex dumped me fir with the girl he dumped for me


• Finding out that by "I chose you" my ex actually meant "I chose to have regular sex with you while continually telling her how confused I was and that I really did love her and lying to you about times when I was with her but not sleeping with her because I would then no longer be morally superior to everyone else on the planet"


• Discussing my future tattoo plans with my friend H's boss


• Explaining my obsession with Tequila Girls to a completely uninterested party


• Explaining my obsession with Tequila Girls to a girl who shared my obsession but for entirely different reasons


• Having the heel shape of a vintage Prada boot explained to me and the importance of other people recognising said boot


• Finding out that despite being able to hear them having sex there were yet more details I could discover about my flatmates' sex lives


• Realising that the uber-vanilla one is not who I thought it was

And the thing is I know that interesting things happened to me in this bar I just can't remember them. How do I know that interesting things happened to me?

It's all about where you wake up the next morning.

a very special day

Tomorrow is February 14th, a magical day where all is right with the world. It's a holiday that celebrates all that's good in life, a day for you spend basking in that warm and radiant glow, where your head spins and you are dizzy with joy and elation. It's a day when you speak kindly to strangers and embrace the world for all the wonderful things it offers. Above all that it's a day to share with that special someone:

That's right kids it's Tequilamas: because Jose loves you, even if nobody else does.

A Festival Is Born: The Origins Of Tequilamas

Tequilamas is a traditional celebration that stretches back for well over three hundred and fifty days. In the early days it began as a festival of togetherness, celebrating the bonds formed under the watchful and benevolent eyes of the god Olmeca. Sacrifices of limes were made and scantily clad maidens took turns at sculpting figures from salt to encourage the new year to be rung in free of hangovers.

Unfortunately this feeling of unity could not last for long, in the fifth cycle of celebrations a freak hurricane swept through the carnival arena devastating all that lay in its path. When searching for the cause of this hurricane the people discovered a strange shrine to the god Hallmark made of a sacrifice of red wine, rose petals and an insipid looking stuffed bear that had obviously been purchased on clearance at the very last minute. It was seen as a terrible omen, one that threatened the sanctity of Tequilamas. From that day forth it was decreed that those who worshipped the heathen god of Hallmark or who partook in the rituals he overlooked were forbidden from partaking in the Tequilamas festivities, lest they bring misfortune down on the heads of the faithful.

Changing Rituals: Tequilamas Through The Ages

The methods of celebrating the festival of Tequilamas have evolved over the years. In the early days, when tequila was an integral part of the people's everyday lives, the spirit drunk at the festival was of the purest form, blessed by the high priest J Cuervo (he would later go on to be canonised as Saint Cuervo, and would inspire Jose's Prayer; a hymn synonymous with the modern celebrations of Tequilamas), and coloured gold. As time went by and people forgot the old ways the spirit used for the festival decreased in quality - eventually leading to the dark ages when revelers would partake in £1 per shot off-label tequila. These were dark days, the gods objected and, when their prayers to the deity AlkaSeltzer fell on deaf ears, the people knew the old ways must once again be taken up.

Tequilamas celebrations are also subject to regional variations and there has been fierce debate between factions as to the correct way to properly honour the gods (for further background information please refer to The Great Citrus Wars and the schism between the factions of White and Gold), a conflict which in fundamental spheres still rages today.

As time has passed the numbers of those celebrating the festival have dwindled, they are often outcasts from their peers who have inexplicably turned to he heathen gods for comfort. At first this threatened the existence of the celebrations but the faithful came together and discovered that their status as virtual strangers fostered the original spirit of Tequilamas and the bonds formed during the festivities were the envy of the non-believers. Recently there has been a trend towards people who are not loyal to the god Olmeca wishing to experience Tequilamas themselves - debate has raged long and hard on this issue and opinion is still divided although, in the spirit of Tequilamas restrictions have begun to be lifted.

A Day Of Festivities: Celebrating Tequilamas

Modern day Tequilamas is a relaxed affair in most circles, lacking in many of the prescribed rituals passed down through the ages. The discriminatory view of the followers of Hallmark has remained although the ban has been unofficially lifted (Hallmarkians can attend the festivities if vouched for by a member of the organising committee and they are able to prove their dissatisfaction, bitterness, unhappiness or status as "alone" on the allotted date - they will however, be subject to a fine). In some circles you will even find revelers partaking in mixed drinks (with very little derision from Tequilamas veterans). While you are welcome to imbibe Margaritas and Sunrises if you wish you will find that the full Tequilamas experience really comes from getting into it. The "spirit of things", if you will.

Tequilamas traditional costumes have varied over the years (although the forbidden colour pink can still not be worn there has been a recent movement to reclaim the colour red - revelers wear it on their feet to symbolise the crushing of the heathen god's ideals) one element has remained: Nametags. Throughout the ages those celebrating Tequilamas have come to understand the beauty of such an item. Often groups celebrating on the festival day are virtual strangers having been outcast by worshippers of Hallmark, nametags are useful in this situation. Especially if hand decorated.

All Tequilamas celebrations begin with the three toasts: One to the god Olmeca, one to Saint Cuervo and the third to the fellow revelers. Each toast is accompanied by a shot of the sacred liquid.

Following the three toasts comes the fining of the non-believers: If Hallmarkians are allowed to attend the festivities they must stand before the room and renounce their god for the evening, taking instead the god Olmeca (loyalty is demonstrated by performing the hallowed ritual of "Shot Race" with other non believers). Any indulging in activities sanctioned by the god Hallmark (or his demons) will lead to immediate expulsion, there can be no exceptions.

Music and games follow, such classic family entertainments as "One Shot Confessions", "I Have Never", "Body Shots" and "What Other Alcohol Can I Mix With Tequila? Rum? Yeah, That'll Work. Tequila, Rum and Orange Is Bound To Taste Great. What? We Don't Have Any Orange? I Dunno, Just Use Iron Bru Or Something" are undertaken and songs, including "Jose's Prayer" and "Ode to the Scorpion" are lifted high into the rafters.


Now that you know the history and practices of this ancient and hallowed festival I charge you to go forth into the world and take the spirit of Tequilamas with you.

In the name Olmeca, Jose and The Scorpion I bid you good health and a merry Tequilamas.

happy weekend!

Huzzah hurrah and hooray! The weekend is here!

I'm going off to get dolled up in the horendous fluorescent lighting of the ladies room at work (it's a horrifying experience at the time but you look fantastic all night), slipping into my hot red shoes and something strapless and then heading out to get thai food with B. We're going to talk about boys, flirt with barmen and get trashed on overpriced cocktails. Despite living together we don't go out as a pair that often (read: once in the last six months) so I'm incredibly excited.

Vive la weekend!

See you all on Monday, hopefully without any horror stories to share.

drinking on the job

For those of you who are slow on the uptake (or have the entirely rational response of tuning out most of what I say): I have the world's most boring job. My post shouldn't really, how shall I put it, exist and as such there are large periods of time where I don't really have that much to do with myself. (Seriously, a few weeks ago I got highly excited by the prospect of cleaning sinks as it was the most interesting thing I'd been given in months. I'm so very glad that my biochemistry degree from, woah, the third ranked university in Europe (how did that happen?) is going to good use)... As such I have to amuse myself by blogging, reading webcomics, inventing drinking games and learning about whatever random topic takes my fancy. The internet is a marvellous timewasting tool. But it hasn't always been that way. Oh no, every job I've ever had has been dull as hell (I'm a slacker, it's just the way I roll) but I haven't always had the glory of the interwebs to fall back on, I've had to find other ways to entertain myself.

Now, I hated working retail, I sold video games on pretty much the most expensive high street of London This meant spoilt kids with entitlement complexes and women who care so little about their husbands' credit cards that they don't even notice being overcharged by the price of one PSP (that happened to me not once but twice, and yes both times were accidental - what on earth do you people think of me?). But still my particular sector had its advantages, these mainly appeared in the form of demonstration models and DVDs. Our store TVs were supposed to play a DVD of upcoming video game trailers on some kind of endless demonic loop. You know what works really well? Replacing the DVD player with a gamecube. Fun fact: wavebirds work even if the console is on a separate floor. Good times.

But that's not the point of this post. Oh no. It's entitled "drinking on the job" and, because I am planning on doing just that this afternoon, that's what I'm here to talk about.

During my first year of Uni I worked at a cocktail bar alongside the ex Mr. TheOdd, it started off slowly, I covered his shifts while he was off shooting at things (oh yeah: he was a pretend soldier, don't think I've mentioned that before), but pretty soon (after getting someone fired - my, I am revealing my inner bitch today aren't I? Don't worry, it was justified) I was a fully fledged member of staff. Now, this particular bar was a weekend kind of a place, we'd be literally empty during the week (a typical night would see one, maybe two customers) but during the weekend we'd be packed solid on both floors (especially with one particular DJ playing) and rushed off our feet.

On the empty nights it was a pretty cool place to work, none of the "well I don't care if there's nobody in the bar you can go and check if any of the empty tables have magically spawned dirty glasses or ashtrays in the three minutes since you last checked" mentality that is rampant in a lot of places. No, on the slow days the ex Mr. TheOdd and I could sit at the end of the bar and do coursework if we had any, there was scrabble to play, food from the Greek restaurant next door (the lovely people delivered) and the TVs were hooked up to Sky so if we got really bored we could always watch extreme sports.

The most fun I ever had on that job was one random Tuesday evening when a group of bankers wandered in with some clients and decided to take us up on our "special offers". Our "special offers" consisted of £1 shots of Jager, butterscotch schnapps, sambuca and tequila that was probably meant to be used as an industrial solvent but somehow just got mislabelled. As they were the only customers in the bar they, of course, got my full attention. As I was the only female in the bar they, of course, bought me drinks.

Bar policy was that if a customer bought you a drink you damned well drank it.

Who am I to fly in the face of policy I ask you?

(I must state now that one of my most over used phrases in this kind of situation is "Well, it'd be rude not to.." it applies to everything I over consume: food, alcohol, boys, shoes...)

And so I drank with them, they insisted on buying me a shot and a drink for every round they had. Although I'm a teeny tiny little thing I am very capable of holding my own drinks wise so it didn't seem like that bad of a plan... Let's just say that I didn't manage to finish my shift. I have no idea how I got back to halls or why I had a bottle wine in my bag when I woke up the next morning on the floor of the ex Mr. TheOdd's room. He would have been mad at me for waking him up at some ungodly hour had he not stumbled in from one of his shifts the week before at 4am bursting through my door with the immortal words:

"Alex (dramatic pause) I ate (further dramatic pause with triumphant finger wagging) th' Scorpion (satisfied grin)."

And, as it turns out, indeed he had.

That being said, it's 12:30. I'm off to the pub.

things I know

I am living proof that premonition is essentially futile, a testament to the fact that predetermination is alive and kicking. Observe: 

• I will make a fool out of myself in front of someone I really don't want to.
  
• 
  
• At some point tonight I'll offer to show someone my tattoos.
  
• 
  
• I will passionately defend something I shouldn't even admit to liking. To a total stranger.
  
• 
  
• Tomorrow three people will have added me on facebook, I may or may not remember them.  Probably the latter.
  
• 
  
• I will be convinced that at least one person will never want to speak to me again regardless of whether or not this is the case.
  
• 
  
• Even money that I will say either "It'll be so much easier if I just crash at yours" or "God, why don't you just stay at ours, we have loads of space" to someone I fairly openly dislike.
  

You see? I know the future and yet am powerless to change it.