Twitter

I joined Twitter - under my real name, not the name I use for this blog - a few months ago.  The experience has been largely enjoyable but I currently have some misgivings.  I appear to have gained a stalker.  Someone called misanthrope, sorry, Miss Ann Thorpe who has not tweeted, has no followers and follows only one person (ie me). And whereas normally I get an e-mail from Twitter to inform me that someone has been added to my 'followers', but when Miss Thorpe joined I didn't get one.
Should I be perturbed ? Should I just ignore it ?  Should I tweet 'her' to ask who the <expletive deleted> she is ? I have tweeted her to point out that Roger McGough's adaptation of Moliere's The Misanthrope is on tour http://www.ett.org.uk/productions/74/the-misanthrope.
I may keep this blog updated on developments. If there are any.

Chocolate Review: Dairy Milk Jelly Popping Candy Shells

Obligatory fuzzy pack shot

 This bar has a variety of tastes and textures as it contains jelly and 'candy shells'  - Smarties presumably being a trademark.  As can be seen from the 'naked' bar below, the major problem is that it is difficult to break evenly.  If you broke off individual pieces, you'd miss the joy of the mixture of tastes with the jellies being the most surprisingly sweet.

Naked bar

 The jellies are also the major survivor of the savour test; when you leave the chocolate on your tongue, the chocolate itself and the candy shells soon melt away but the jellies linger on for some time and seem even sweeter for it.
 A very enjoyable bar and highly recommended.

Moaners of the World Unite

This is the full version of the article originally published in Exeter City fanzine Some Sunny Day in September 2013, the one that became known as 'the throat slitting issue' (see post 164 on page 17).

             And so the team of all the talents has been assembled and it only remains to be seen how it will perform. But less about this fanzine…
            Those who may have wondered what I’ve been doing with my time lately (ie nobody) may be interested to hear that I’ve been working on a screenplay about Maurice Wright cleaning the away end toilets when he finds an explosive device. Will Maurice be able to deal with the bomb and save the parish of St James from being devastatingly contaminated ?  It’s tentatively titled Shite House Down.
            My place of work (yes, I know that those who have met me will be surprised that I am in full-time employment) is to be the subject of a ‘fly on the wall’ documentary. While viewers might be baffled by an office where everyone wears balaclavas – the powers that be agreed to the programme; nobody actually wants to appear in it – we may take the opportunity to popularise the phrase ‘dog toffee’.
            The original football fanzine boom was based on reaction against things that appeared to threaten the beautiful game, such as compulsory membership schemes or property developers buying grounds to make a profit from their redevelopment.
 

Taken from FCUM AD

           As such the fanzine was seen as a place for fans to have a rant about things they disagreed with about how their club or football in general was being run. Possibly this campaigning spirit has died, although this may be down to there being less to complain about.  The late, lamented (?) Siege Army had a flag with ‘Against Modern Football’ on it.  I have been to games at Alphington, Civil Service, Crediton, Exmouth etc and have not seen this flag being paraded at any of them – but then as it is probably languishing under the Big Bank with the other Siege Army paraphernalia, that’s probably not much of a surprise.  Perhaps I should borrow it and take it to some local league games. I’m assuming that this is in support of the likes of FC United of Manchester and the takeover of bigger clubs by foreign investors who place the club into debt.  I’m also assuming that those displaying the banner are the self-same people who’d like City to be taken over by a ‘sugar daddy’. The only other interpretation I can put on it is that what the  people who are against modern football want is players dressed like proper chaps with Victorian moustaches and using the old leather footballs with laces.  Whilst I’m on the subject of the Siege Army, I was thinking of requesting that as part of the build-up to the start of the game at the Park that I Will Follow Him by Little Peggy March should be played over the tannoy. For those of you with internet access, it is available on the likes of Youtube.  Watch it, listen to it and think of the image that the Siege Army were trying to project.
            Personally, the biggest axe I have to grind is that I’d like to know what the job descriptions are for the Chairman and the Chief Executive Officer of the club.  What are their long term projects and aims ?  What are their day to day activities with regard to achieving those aims ?  I know that one of Norrie Stewart’s aims when he was here was to increase usage and income of the Social Club by trying to appeal to students who make up the vast majority of the populace around the Park.
            I was thinking of standing for the Trust board but believe that my election address explaining why I wished to be elected saying just “I want to go to Brazil” may not have proved too popular with the voters.  All Trust members are equal, but some are more equal than others.
            City played in yellow and blue against AFC Wimbledon to celebrate the club’s connection with, erm, Sweden ? Crediton ? AFC Wimbledon ? Civil Service changing their name to Exwick Villa ? No, search me.
            My major concern this season, once expectations of anything spectacular happening on the playing front had been lowered, is the state of the programme.  What was an award winning magazine has become a comic.  Only around a quarter of the pages have a ‘significant’ amount of text on.  Thirty of the eighty pages are ads – congratulations to the marketing department for selling so many, but it doesn’t give the reader value for money – and double pages of ads will, in all probability, just be turned over and not read, whereas ads facing text may have, at least, some subliminal effect while the facing page is being read.

Image via theroguenews,com

          The ‘steak, chips and lager’ player questionnaires have reached their eventual conclusion as a page of pictures – gee, thanks, I’d never have known what football boots, a cup of hot chocolate or a Chinese takeaway was if I didn’t have the visual clues (on the other hand, I still have no idea who John O’Flynn’s favourite band, Aslan, are having seen them). The away team ‘profiles’ are two pages of photos so if you’re watching the game thinking “didn’t he used to play for…” unless it’s obvious by looking at a full face photo then you won’t know. By contrast, even when Bristol City had a fold out A2 poster for a programme against Crystal Palace in the League Cup they still had pen pictures of the away players. The match reports are simply pictures and a basic timeline, but handily a diagram to scan if you’ve got a whizzy phone if you actually wish to read the online report, a positive boon for those without the internet.  A friendlies round up of one paragraph descriptions started with the Clevedon game: “City travel to Mansfield for the first time in over ten years…” – well, yes they did, but what’s that got to do with Clevedon ?  My overall view of this season’s programme: utter dog toffee. Please note: at the time of writing I had no idea of the lay out of this publication and, should it contain a high proportion of ads and photomontage, may look a complete berk.
            I doubt this is the correct place for this but could I make a request for the person in Stadium Way with the big screen TV which can be seen from the Big Bank to turn on the subtitles when City are playing ? This would have been particularly useful during the Wycombe JPT game which was extremely dull.  We could’ve watched the Great British Bake Off instead.
            As stated earlier I’ve watched a fair bit of local league football and so am used to shouts from the technical areas like ‘squeeze’, ‘shape’ etc (may I just add here that I was behind George Kent in the tea queue at Exmouth ?) but I did hear recently the shout ‘touch time’ which sounds more like something that would be investigated under Operation Yewtree.
           

City may well have missed a trick with the Great Gorilla Trail. This, for those of you who haven’t heard of it, is the art project of gorilla sculptures across Torbay and Exeter that have been designed by local artists and schools. Now what I think City should have done, although I’m not sure it was an option, was to sponsor one that could have gone in, say, Red Square wearing City kit.  As I say the opportunity has been missed, but a larger, more daring one is available.  Paignton Zoo has six live gorillas. Now, if some brave soul is willing to break into Paignton Zoo and put a City kit on one of them this would be a major promotional coup for the football club. I believe this is known as guerrilla marketing.

Things I’ve Learnt This Season So Far

·         If I Google the name of an old flame, the first entry I get is “Queen of Tarts”

·         There is a country park about a mile from Dagenham’s ground patrolled by an Alsatian with a crazed look in its eyes.

·         Northern Ireland fans chanted at Ronaldo “You’re just a cheap Gareth Bale”.

·         The Railway pub in Dagenham has been converted to a Tesco Express but still has the pub sign outside.

·         Whilst Central Library is being refurbished the library is housed in the old library that was the new library built just after the war.

·         Aleksandr Orlov, the meerkat, is voiced by the actor who plays Michael the Geordie in Alan Partridge.

·         Marks and Spencer sell onesies.

Chocolate Review: Dairy Milk Oreo

Slightly over-exposed packshot

 

 

At work I was once offered an Oreo cookie and said that I thought they tasted like charcoal. But took one all the same. The person who offered them to me thought that this was rather fickle.

The 'charcoal' thing was what put me off when approaching the Oreo Dairy Milk bar. Would it be exceedingly gritty with hard pieces in the chocolate ?  Hence it was a pleasant surprise that there's not much 'charcoal' in the bar but a lot of "vanilla flavoured filling" which is creamy in texture. There is a slightly gritty feel from the remaining bits of 'charcoal', sorry, biscuit but not enough to detract from the fact that this is a very tasty and enjoyable bar.





Chocolate Review: Dairy Milk Winter Wonderland

Despite seeming to be made up of milk and white chocolate, this bar simply tastes like the tiny Dairy Milk bars that are in boxes of Heroes.  The Christmas tree tessellation does mean that it doesn't break evenly or into neat blocks.  The pack suggests that it may be broken into individual Christmas tree shapes.  How this could be achieved without a jigsaw is beyond me; it would require either a very careful attempt to break the bar by hand or perhaps a warm knife and a steady hand to cut it with.
Liked the chocolate, hated the shape.

The Blackstone Code - Episode Two

The story so far:  Padraig O’Riordan , Professor of Football Cryptography at the University of Liffey, has been summoned by Chief Inspector Freddie Flintoff to the National Football Museum.  The museum’s curator, Jack Salter, has been murdered, but not before mutilating himself in order to leave a cryptic clue … Now read on…

          Despite the severity of the situation, O’Riordan was still thinking about his alternative career as a pulp novelist.  What should his pen name be ?  He had thought of using his middle name, Daniel, and his mother’s maiden name, Brown.  But that had already been done.  What about his maternal grandmother’s maiden name, O’Donnell ?

          “Isn’t it a bit of a coincidence that this should happen whilst you are in Preston, Professor ?”  barked Flintoff, snapping O’Riordan out of his reverie.

          “I’m here for the snooker,” spluttered O’Riordan, feeling as if he was being accused.  “The Guild Hall is like a second home to Ronnie O’Sullivan, an honorary Irishman.”

          “Ah, snooker,” said a low female voice. “The rhythm of the perfect break: red, black, red, black …”  Though the voice was sweet and sexy, O’Riordan couldn’t help thinking of Chas And Dave’s ‘Snooker Loopy’ ).  Seemingly unnoticed a woman in her mid-twenties, nearly six feet tall, slim with burgundy hair, had entered the room.

          “This is one of Lancashire Constabulary’s own cryptographer’s, Tara Farmer-Palmer,” said Detective Sergeant Jeremiah  Fuzzyduck.  The writer in O’Riordan thought it was good that Fuzzyduck had introduced the new character, otherwise he wouldn’t appear in this episode and would be forgotten.

          “I don’t remember asking for any cryptographic assistance other than Professor O’Riordan,” snapped Flintoff.

          “As this case involves a coded message,” said Farmer-Palmer. “I was called in as a matter of course.  What was the message exactly ?”

          “Blame sick token.  Now sob, true fish-face,” replied Flintoff.

          “I know you don’t want me here, Inspector,” said Farmer-Palmer. “But that was totally uncalled for.”

          “No, that was the message,” clarified O’Riordan.

          “Totally incomprehensible,” added Flintoff.

          “I’d guess you don’t do many crosswords, Inspector,” joked O’Riordan.

          “No.  Too much paperwork.  That’s the problem with policing today,”  Flintoff responded, totally missing O’Riordan’s attempt at humour.

          “What we should be asking is why Jack Salter chose to write 32 letters in his own blood to leave this message when his killer’s name would have been considerably shorter,” remarked Farmer-Palmer.

          “Assuming his killer was known to him…” interjected Flintoff.

          “.. and not a Sri Lankan cricketer,” quipped O’Riordan.

          “I have to leave now,” Farmer-Palmer said suddenly. “Should you wish to contact me, Professor O’Riordan, here is my card.”  She pressed a calling card into his hand and then disappeared as unnoticed as she had entered.

          O’Riordan looked at the card.  There was no address or phone number on it, only in capital letters the words “YOU ARE IN DANGER. LEAVE NOW.”  You have to admire the subtlety of it, thought O’Riordan.

          O’Riordan looked at  Flintoff.  “Do you mind if I go back to the hotel to collect my stuff ?”

          “Everything you need is here, Professor,” replied Flintoff, gesturing roughly in the direction of the Incident Room that had been set up. “I’ll get one of my officers to collect your belongings and bring them here to our scene of crime base.”

          “Erm, well, um …” stuttered O’Riordan, trying to think quickly. “Do you mind if I have a toilet break ?”

          O’Riordan was directed to the toilets near the café.  Inside he filled a basin with water.  His mind was racing. Murder ? Suspicion ? Danger ? How has a short break in the North West of England come to this ?  He bent over the basin and splashed his face with water.  As he straightened up, he noticed in the mirror, as always happens in Hollywood movies, that someone was standing behind him.

          “Did I say ‘candyman’ five times ?” joshed O’Riordan. “What makes you think I’m in danger ?”

          Tara Farmer-Palmer (for it is she) replied “Inspector Flintoff is very old-fashioned.  You are his chief suspect. The fact that you clearly know what the message means, when he doesn’t, is no help. He has placed a tracking device in your coat.”

          “So why won’t he let me leave ?” said O’Riordan, although he had been born in rural Ireland he had a soft spot for posh English totty.  For reasons that he found unfathomable, but would take hundreds of words to explain, he trusted her implicitly, despite her uncanny ability to move about almost unseen.

          “As the Animals once sang,” said Farmer-Palmer. “We gotta get out of this place.”

          He was impressed by the young woman’s knowledge of 1960s popular music and couldn’t help agreeing with her.

To be continued…