- Jan 31, 2011
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I hate grease, I have hated it since when I was a very young child, I wandered into the kitchen to see what was cooking, and found a huge pan with boiling butter. I was sick, and since then, I just cant bear grease, I can eat greasy food, but I have to use a spoon, which is why I run every time they give out parshad, in fact the thought of rubbing my hands all over my face afterwards is not something I think I could do.
I have just returned from the madhouse that I call home, my stepson comes over once a week, I cook, and then leave him and his mum to watch rubbish on TV, tonight is walking dead and games of thrones night, I cooked steak, mushrooms and potatoes, with a few olives on the table. Sian threw a piece of steak at Dan, who sits on the chair next to me, but it missed and hit my shoulder, as they both laughed, I flung an olive, which I found quite funny, and it then progressed into an olive fight, which was hugely hilarious, until I realised I was dripping with olive oil, determined to put an end to this, I flung the last olive quite hard, to which Sian picked up the butter and just looked at me, at which point I ran out of the room, to the sound of much laughter, (no olives were harmed during this melee), so they are in bed eating ice cream, and I am at the shop listening to the moody blues, and I smell, of olive oil
I have just returned from the madhouse that I call home, my stepson comes over once a week, I cook, and then leave him and his mum to watch rubbish on TV, tonight is walking dead and games of thrones night, I cooked steak, mushrooms and potatoes, with a few olives on the table. Sian threw a piece of steak at Dan, who sits on the chair next to me, but it missed and hit my shoulder, as they both laughed, I flung an olive, which I found quite funny, and it then progressed into an olive fight, which was hugely hilarious, until I realised I was dripping with olive oil, determined to put an end to this, I flung the last olive quite hard, to which Sian picked up the butter and just looked at me, at which point I ran out of the room, to the sound of much laughter, (no olives were harmed during this melee), so they are in bed eating ice cream, and I am at the shop listening to the moody blues, and I smell, of olive oil
