This is Ina 911

Friday night chez moi tends to include a pleasure pain balance exercise. It’s two gym classes followed by a blow out dinner. Last night was no exception. Someone who irritates me to buggery was in the class. It is irrational irritation but nonetheless it’s there. I know it should be all about my workout, but he sets up late for each exercise, creeps to the instructor, has some massive crucifix that flaps about during the aerobic tracks and wore a backwards cap, I’m sorry, but all in all I find it a bloody distraction.

Ok bitch out the way. Finished in the gym, and went home for some left over chilli on a jacket potato and some vintage Ina. What a joy, what a treat! She was helping TR cater for his, doing a glazed ham, eggplant dip and lemon curd bizarrely enough. It was one of those half an hour cookery shows that in essence was only ten minutes if you cut the crap. She served up a lemon cake covered in lemon curd, but the cake was in her freezer so we never made that, she just simmered the lemon sugar and I think butter and something else into a curd. It was a bit odd really. We could have done with the cake recipe really, we don’t all have a freezer full of cake. And he bought a smoked ham and basically just rubbed a mustard chutney combo on and baked it so it glazed. Well, that’s a Bella magazine handy hint rather than a recipe, it’s a bit akin to buy a lasagne from the chiller at M&S and serve it with a salad.

What else happened in my life last night? Oh yes, return of Strictly Come Dancing. Loving this series so far. Great line up. So very British, and so much more charming that the US equivalent. Bit annoying mind that you realise Matt Baker actually used to be part of a dance troupe for years pre Blue Peter. The word ringer springs to mind. I mean, at least Pamela Stephenson is a psychologist so it’s a real learning of a skill, rather than just putting training into practice. Bring on Ann Widdecombe I say. If it’s half as good as Paul Daniels, I’ll be happy.

We found ourselves mesmerised by a Westlife concert on Sky One last night as well. I have no idea why. Mark has put his weight on again. As has Kian. Mark was always in a full length or mid length coat, and was sweaty as all get up. Running down his face in such a vile manner. Not very nice. It was a bizarre experience as they didn’t seem to have any definable fan base. There were some slack jawed types with full tattoos of then band, many including Brian McFadden in an embarrassing move, and then there were seven year old kids, and then older women who really should stop it now, it’s just embarrassing. I could not understand this concert tho, it was all ballads and mid tempo love songs strung together on a weird set covered in neon roses, whilst some men in their early thirties sang on in unflattering white outfits which were covered in zips and militarised details. It made no sense. It was only when Pete had the sense to ask why we were still watching it after an hour, and we realised there was still an hour and forty minutes of middle of the road shit to go, that we thought better of it.

But as Nigella said, everything in moderation including moderation. If you want a poor mans Boyzone in your life, by all means have it. And Friday night is always a free swim in my book, no need to be high brow.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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