Craig

Last night's Chilli was fabulouso.
Wish I could say the same for the Doh! Factor.
Little Bully Misha dared to copy Tina in an attempt to win friends. Her rendition of Proud Mary, which is one of my all-time favourites, had me growling...Only one Diva can blast that one out.... The faker even attempted a not-so-much slap look. Her wig was a giant bubble of black froth which sat uneasily on her bonce.
I wish I could like the girl because she does have star quality but since finding out she's catty and a bully I've had it in for her. Endured my share of bullying at school and once a bully always a B.

Johnny Robinson's performance was not his strongest but I still think he'll go through to next week. Likewise The Risk.
Also loved Craig Colton. A big boy with voice to match. Cheeky and with enough charm to win votes. And that's what counts. I bet he was a beautiful baby...
The Devil performed again in the form of Ms Brucknell. Said it before and will say it again...there is something of the underworld about her. Her eyes and brows are just too blazingly evil to even glance at.
A fake with mastery- of -the- world on her to-do list.
Who else did I suffer?
The girl group. Who are, according to the judges, just ordinary gels like what I am. They even live in ordinary places like you do, places like Essex and up North and places in between. One of them has a size issue.
Boring.

I will watch the result show tonight despite my protestations......Because I love show biz..even in it's sickliest form:)

Being cooked today..
Roast Chicken veggies and Yorkshire pudlets
There'll be no dessert though...

I need to rest the inner walls of my tummy after last night's Strawberry Mouse...A more wickedly decandent afters I don't believe I've had. Pure fat and sugar..everything a growing girl needs and this girl will grow if she carries on like this:)
No seriously though, the Mousse was so light and beautiful it could have been brought down from on high...Plump, full and with a rosy hue and serving it with crunchy oat biscuits was inspired...
I'm aching to make more.

Other cooking to do soon...Minestrone soup (so thick I can stand a wooden spoon up in it) said my dad. I know Minestrone should be thin but I don't do thin.
I like thick. In everything. Bread. Cake wedges. Biscuits. Dumplings and people.

And on that incendiary note I'll say fare thee well...:)

Chilli and Cyril

Cyril a.k.a Damien

After a madcap couple of days I am back to some kind of normality...

Simmering is...
Chilli Gone Barmy
waiting to be simmered is...
er....Boiled Rice
and waiting to be mauled
a full load of....
Tortilla Chips

This Heat will be followed by chilled Strawberry Mouse and Oaty Rounds (little home made bikkies)


Most of tonight's entertainment will be spent shouting at the wackos on the X Factor. Then, depending on how much I'm in need of some action, I might risk further eye bags by merrily dipping into Banlieue Treize....Ultimatum to those unfamiliar with French films, this sequel stars Cyril Raffaelli (Aries) as Capt. Damien Tomaso who sets out (again) to nail drug dealing wasters in District 13...(Walled off habitat for scumsters on the outskirts of Paris)
Love it:)
And if it's half as good as the numero uno I'll be in for a high old time.. dear.


Now off with the pinny and on with the gun vest..
Sacre Bleu Mate!

Tonight's X Factor

Shiny Happy Person

Johnny Robinson

l to r...Janet, Sophie, Kelly Rowland (judge) Amelia, Misha

Misha...For someone so young...so cool. The whole 5ft 1 thing making the Diva-in-waiting even more alluring. A good performance from the teenager but I'd like a little less worldliness and a lot more teeth. Out of 10? 7

Johnny Robinson....45 year old living in a bedsitter. So camp, so utterly likeable and with a greatish voice. Camp? Oh yes that's why I giggle with him. Johnny is a 'performer' of the highest pinkest order but without the sound of clicking fingers which say "Aren't I wonderful?"... so will probably be knocked out fairly soon.
Unlike....

Kitty. Reputedly 26. Who has the strangest face I've seen in a very long time. She looks like a drag act...Anyway tonight she poked the air with her purple talons whilst looking at the ceiling with overly made up, sequinned, quite rotten eyes. You either love her ways or loathe them, I loathe them. As far as her voice goes, yes she warbles well but there's little soul, more just muscle and paint. I expect she'll go a long way, not because she's the best singer but because she's the type of act shows like this pray for, indeed bank on, she's a 'character'....

Sorry everyone I can't remember the names of any of the others, my evening you see was interrupted. But the girl group from Essex, Two Shoes or sumfink were so wonderfully bad they'll be opening supermarkets for the next five years. Tanned to death and lovers of cuisine these two babes would raise a laugh at Stag Do's. Bless.
Someone else who caught my eye was a youngish lad from Liverpool, a hairdresser by trade, who did a fab turn reminiscent of a young Sammy Davis Jnr. Glossy smile, smooth and light on his feet. I liked him.
The last group to perform, 4 boys, with one wearing braces. Yum. They were the slickest of the groups, very together which in itself is not remarkable but when you consider it was the their first time performing together..they gave an incredible performance. They'll go far. What WAS their name. Can't check ITV.com because it's down.
The little Irish girl, Janet Devlin looks even more elfin like now the telly people have got their hands on her. She's gone from honey blonde to auburn sunset and in so doing has upped her rating in my book. A pretty thing with oodles of talent but defo not my cup of teao. I prefer....
Sophie Habibas, pub worker who delivered her song sitting on top of a piano. No arm waving or excessive cleavage just mesmerizing vocals from a very beautiful girl.
Frankie Cocozza. The 21st century's Artful Dodger. Too flippy floppy for me, too lopsided a performance, still he's not out for the old girls vote it's the teenyboppers (!) he's opening to ensnare. A huge amount of glossy brown hair making him look like a bloody girl. Voice good, quirky and recordable. A money maker if ever I saw one.
Amelia Lilly. 16 going on 45. Took on a Michael Jackson song..'Beat It'. (I think) Way too huge for her but she rocked it. An interesting face, flattish but with loads of character, a woman in the making...I liked her and I'd like to see her beat up Kitty in the later rounds. Cross fingers darling.
JonJo the soldier. Bless. Lots of sexy looks to camera, winks being obviously big in the army. An incredibly hot suit in mauve, a bit shiny but that was ok because he could carry it. Great fit bod. But....Too nice and normal for The X Factor asylum.

Others were groups, a big girl with an even bigger voice, some other fellas and someone else. All in all a very fair Live edition of this moreish addictive programme.
Judges were good especially Mr Barlow. I feel Ms Rowland is overdoing the American thing, when unsure what to say just fill the air with inane Americanisms...Honey...

Anchor man Dermot twirled as usual so for a couple of hours I was smiling...

Tomorrow night it's results night where those heartless judges have to kick off one of their very own acts. Should be worth a toffee or two;)

Now I must tip toe to bed with my olde walkman...

Oh Come On...

Goldie 50+ Here take That....

Janet 16...Pure and Lovely

Frankie 18 Geezer

....A fab meal not bought or cooked by me and 90 mins of the X Factor.... if you know of a better way to spend Saturday night then mail me!

Loved and laughed with bit-of-rough Frankie boy, and then fell deeply in love with Irish Red Riding Hood aka Miss Devlin.
Others? Pure overflow.
Except the Chinese lady, who I liked as soon as I saw her strings, and her fit impersonation of Tina, making me wooooo and be convinced that as soon as gals hit 50+ they either let themselves go or let themselves go.

The new bad cop, Gary Barlow, did his best to be bad, uttering no after no after no but it was Louis Walsh who, as usual, played good cop. The lady judges were ok, but moi, being out of touch with current trends failed to know them. The one sitting next to Louis was 23, but had the worldliness of a woman much longer in the tooth, show biz obviously an ageing profession, the other bird, an American, emoted and I liked emotion. Give me tears, whether true or false, and I'm yours.

*Apparently there's been boozing, bullying and sex going on behind the scenes. Blasted fun these people have, me, plead guilty to two.*

In the lingo of today....I do love X Factor:)

Cooking tonight:

Sausage Saxony...
A rich warm concoction consisting of good pork snorkers, chopped red onion, snipped smoked bacon and various dried and fresh herbs braised in oxtail soup and to soak up the yummy juices...some creamy mashed potatoes.

For pud: Chunked Bananas and Hot Chocolate Blancmange.

*I see The X Factor is returning to a screen near you, have to admit to being pleased about that. It's a guilty pleasure of mine...
Utter nonsense and probably fixed but I don't mind, as long as I get to root for someone then that's all I care about.

* My shoulder is giving me the pip. Same one as last time, the left one. Current pain coming from me thinking I'm a mini-weightlifter. Carrying mum's shopping bags on account of her a) 8st body unable to clutch even a bag of cod and chips b) Her insistence on buying every women's mag in the shop and c) Being blind to my own very special needs, pains and joint troubles.
Love, you see, is not only blind, it's daft aswell.

Yadder yadder.....

I hope to have an excellent weekend, by excellent I mean doing what I want, with whom I want and where I want...probably the kitchen:)

I feel a Mass of Muffins on the way.

Yikes..look at the time...I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>





*

Sunday Waffle

Last night we had something new...

As we gobbled up Olly on The X Factor we dined on the most magnificent take away. This treat consisted of the usual suspects (sweet and sour with the trimmings) as well as Red Thai Chicken Curry. Oh dear, Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Good food has the capacity to stop the flow of chatter and to relax one. And we were certainly relaxed.

Olly glided on the stage, his liquid hips sending moi into a most unladylike position..Me ankles scattered the cushions. So love that boy. Essex lad you know. And how do I get to Witham? His voice isn't the best in the competition but he has something which is essential if you want to reach the top. Charm. Olly's a charmer. Very likeable, extremely moreish and the type of guy you could introduce to your gran. Love him wildly!

The other contestants did reasonable versions of George Michael tunes, but the group known as Jedward were hideously hilarious and I won't be surprised if they make the final. Their crazed prancing hides a talent for tunelessness. The Dublin schoolboys can't sing a note and move and dance like a pair of clockwork puppies.

Danyl, with his new haircut was, as always, superb, but as he goes for the big money notes I get a glimpse of his tonsils. What a gob! I feel that he takes himself a trifle too seriously, he has a fine register but I can't see him on MTV.

The Dagenham babe, Miss Solomon was just ok. Like her enormously but the over the top giggling does my head in. As you all know I hate giggling women. Week after week we see the same performance, she doesn't offer up any surprises and if she's to become a star she's gotta shock.

Little Lloyd, who in my opinion should be playing 'puter games instead of singing on the telly, murdered his song and should therefore be sent packing back to the valleys. Cute blond kid with awesome blue eyes who would be very at home in a boy band. Standing alone, never.

The last singer was Joe and he rocked everyone's boat. A little Geordie lad with huge teeth, reminds me of one of my old lovers, Mr Donny Osmond. Joe has a great set of pearly whites and I feel, along with the judges, that he would be more at home in musical theatre. Pop Idol he isn't.

After the excitement of a night in, I went to bed with me ear plugs and dreamt of me curry.


There'll be more titillation tonight on account of me being taken.

To the pictures.

To see Earth's destruction in '2012'.

Hubby will be shoved aside in favour of Henry.

And if he lets me down, his feet won't touch Mother Earth...

The X Factor lacked lustre last night.

It was Big Band night yet I didn't see any proper bow ties, just undone ones. Nasty. And to add to my upset, Jamie Afro sang a U2 song. What was that all about? Olly from Witham gave the best performance, singing and dancing around the stage like a old pro. He dances like an electric eel. His hips going to places where hips have no right to go, a slippery agile fellow who looks faintly 1940's with his funny old man's haircut.
I like him.

The girls were so-so, Lucie giving a sweet performance and Rachel trying hard to impress and failing. The girl group who I can't remember the name of, were cool and hot and had some pizazz but John and Edward were ghastly visions in horrid sugary colours and their insane prancing made me doubt their sanity but they're only teenagers and seem, strangely enough, to be taking it all in their stride including the criticism.
Oh, but they are creepy.

Danyl was superb.
His black slicked down hair suited him very well and he slid back and forth pulling in the crowd with his showmanship. But there's something missing. A bit of humour perhaps. Although he's handsome and cocky and talented his arms don't quite reach into people's hearts. And that's where they have to be. No heart tweaking, no star.

All in all the show was a bit of a let down, but I suppose if every show was thunderously good it could become boring. A lot of ups and a few downs make for real life.
Only the mediocre are good all the time.




Cooking today is roast chicken and a host of vegetables followed by Spotted Dick which is steaming as I type.
"Columbo" is on this afternoon, it's the one about the sex therapist who shoots her lover in the chest in a red bedroom when she discovers he's been playing games with another lady.
Bang Bang.
Wonderful stuff.

Ollie from Witham

The X Factor had me in stitches as usual.
Out trotted the hopeless most of which I can't even remember but
a pretty, if tired looking girl, with a foreign accent and long hair, had my vote. Not for her singing voice but for her gentleness, sincerity and audacity. What she hears when she sings in the bathroom is not what we heard. But I liked her immediately.

A lad from Witham in Essex called Ollie also had my vote. He slivered out onto the stage like he owned it and gave us a knock-out, show-off, star-in-waiting performance.
Voice was cool and great and when he danced so did I...

He slid that stage like his feet were creamed.

The Why Oh Why Factor

This morning Henry and I did a duet.
Sitting on kitchen stools we sang "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life".
Our whistling was perfect too.

We spoke in deep deep depth about:

Love. His for me.
Rubber.
Insomnia.
Older than me women. Like that Simpkins sort up the road.
Haircuts. His
Love.
Lips. Mine.
Carrot Cake. One for him, one for the kid and one for Walter.
Walter's new job.
Sticky mirrors.
Hearing Aids.
Midwifery jokes.
Plums. His. Shrivelled. Oh God...
Love.
Socks. His. Candy striped and with sandals.
Funeral arrangements. His.
Joyous occasions.
Funeral non-arrangements. Mine.
Manic Depressive Episodes.
The X Factor.
Love.

Then he went to work.
And so after adding a woman's touch to Walter's rather bare room I went into Henry's shower and stuck a large message on the tiles.

WARNING!
HOT WATER CAN WRINKLE YOUR EXTREMETIES.

That should raise a smile:)

Then I left and after loading up the car with groceries from a supermarket I came home and er...did this:)

Happy weekend everyone.

Saturday Rocks.

Today.
Not only am I doing things for our soldiers in Afghanistan but I'm getting kitted out for my other boys.
My beloved England are doffing up the Slovenians today so I'll be, in spirit at least, joining Becks on the hallowed Wembley turf. I know, I know, I'm a bit of a drama Queen and all that, but days like this are few and far between so I'm making the most of it.

The X Factor is on too, so far I've seen a couple of good acts, one is a man called Danyl, the other, a girl called Rozelle. Big showman type artistes who immediately brightened up the 'comedy' show. And it is you know, it is a comedy show, well in the early stages at least, the bad singers are brought to slaughter for our entertainment and most of the poor blighters haven't a clue. But in amongst the devastated rejects are some real entertainers, last week a girl group who I can't remember the name of did a Britney song and did it fantastically well too. What is their name? Blast it. Anyway they were good and I liked them a lot.


Yesterday was cool, did a grand job at Henry's and after a late night microwaved Szechzuan Chicken I spent a little while on my hands and knees looking for an earring.

All Done

As the wind blew in through gaping windows and as the last fluid ounces of paint was spread I was stopped by some thrilling news.
The 'X' Factor is back!
Returning to a small screen near you on the 22nd August will be the over blown judges, the very professional and gorgeous Dermot O'Leary and the singers. And I cannot wait.
This year there's gossip surrounding the possible inclusion of Mr Roberto Williams, who I feel, will steal the show, the headlines and the screams from other less interesting people. But that's showbiz for ya. After all who wants to sit and be made comatose by a dullard. Bring on the real star of the show that's what I say.

So after the paint was eased on, then lashed on, then laughed on, we ate six cream crackers and some cake. And as the crumbs clogged up me teeth I could see the finishing line in what has to be the longest most marathon stint in decorating history. But the end was a-coming.

The end.
What a beautiful word to all those wielding brushes in their underwear and bad plimpsols. By 6 p.m. it was done. All that was needed now was some spicy chicken and a little sit down then the real decorating could begin with silk blooms, wooden cats and new curtains. The artist in me was running wild you see with visions of a new more clean cut front room but not one with no ornamentation at all, after all that wouldn't be me. So as we sat awkwardly watching a programme on Channel 4 about God, my eyes darted around the smelly painted room like an excited child thinking where I could put my giant Chinese teapot:)
By the leaf green sweet dish. I think...

My Muse, Monty and Dad's Meatballs

My Muse has gone away, and I miss her.
I've been struggling to write something, something beautiful or even mediocre but each time my fingers hovered over the keyboard they looked like a ten legged spider with nowhere to go.
With no poetry flowing I've had to read again past efforts, I've even toyed with the idea of editing some, which is anathema to me. Where's my Muse? I thought she liked me.
With very little literary creativity going on today I'll consign myself to the kitchen and make beautiful things in there.
So, with a visit to the old London people tomorrow, I'll be making up a food parcel which will not only contain the ubiquitous cake but half a dozen Meatballs! Dad's decided to get dangerous and risk some queer gear.

On my agenda today:
Quick dash to the shops for Passata, naans and toothpaste.
Make Meatballs in an anglicized Italian tomato sauce.
Make Latimer Beef for tomorrow night and fridge it.
Make an old people's cake. Madeira probably.
Watch Monty watching pigeons. Got a great pic of that...
Re-arrange dust in all rooms.
Tuna sandwich and crisps for lunch about one.
Try to snatch forty winks sometime after two.
Post-lunch but pre-winks, fantasize about The X Factor's Daniel coming round to clean my fantasy swimming pool.

Thank you.

Barry's Big Day Beckons

The election for the most powerful man on the planet takes place tomorrow.
And I can't wait to jump between Sky News and BBC News24 catching all the latest info on what's occurring over the Pond.

Mr Obama is maintaining a steady lead over Mr McCain but will the results match what the pollsters are being told or will it be a case of the 'Bradley' effect. Whereby voters said they would be voting for Tom Bradley, an African American who was running for Governor of California in 1982 but when voters entered the polling booths they changed their minds.

Like I've said on numerous occasions, I'm no expert on American politics but I hope the American people give Barack (Barry) Obama a chance, a chance to smooth over the frenzied brows of worried Americans. And also it'd be nice to see a younger woman in the shape of Michelle Obama rustling the feathers of the pristine White House brigade, I can imagine her re-arranging the furniture in the Oval Office making it feel like a home from home for her husband.
The Obama's remind me of John and Jackie Kennedy, not that I'm quite old enough to remember them that well, but I love the idea of fresh faced Barack and his pretty wife whipping up a storm in the corridors of Washington.
Their kids Malia and Natasha might brighten up the joint as well.
Well we don't have long to wait now...

I've been totally engrossed in the whole thing, and was often caught watching both the Vice Presidential and Presidential debates wearing my pyjamas like a kid watching The Simpsons only I didn't as laugh much, I just drank in the electrifying atmosphere and wished we here in Britain could put on such a superb piece of political theatre like our Cousins. But we're just an island jam packed with bitchy old queens who love slapping posh and pleb wrists and then sneering as yet another plumped up politician falls on his arse.
The American conventions are pure Broadway, we however do The Kings Theatre, Worthing!

Anyway, not long for your Queen to wait and as she does so she's wiping away tears, tears of disbelief as one of my favs in The X Factor got clobbered on Saturday. Austin was in a sing off with my other fav Rachel and the judges decided in their weird wisdom that the Essex boy should go. I was mortified, but I expect it won't be the last we see of him.

On the Horsehound agenda today:
Starting a shopping list. I'm getting older and things are taking longer to achieve so...
Looking for cake recipes (again) My cake recipes are poetry to me.
Doing something with a stiff brush after four.

Sweet and Savoury

The X Factor is on tonight and I've got a big bag of Butterkist Popcorn so...after talking the hind legs of a donkey with Mum and Dad I'll check the news on that bad BBC, and then I'll flick through recipe books in search of cake recipes, and then I'll go all savoury and make a large bowl of Indonesian (via Essex) Nasi Goreng.
After I've finished I'll pick up grains of wayward rice from the floor and run into the front room, remove my socks, and watch the next round of The X Factor.