The Chef Gordon Ramsay Drinking Game*

*This(or anything I say) should never be taken seriously. Drink conservatively, et cetera and basically just don't be a dick. Okay, onto the fun!

I was watching a Kitchen Nightmares USA marathon recently(don't ask me why) and invented this game. 

The Rules are easy: You drink if…

  

1.     Anyone says the word “EVER.” Example:. The narrator says "The most explosive Kitchen         Nightmares...ever!
2.     When Chef Ramsay says “Shut it Down!”
3.     When Chef Ramsay says “disgusting, donkey, diluted/stubborn/ect.”
4.     Chef Ramsey does family counselling.
5.     Anytime you see a Mexican in the kitchen.
6.     An owner says his food is 10 out of 10.
7.      When the head chef says his “hands are tied” by the owner.
8.     Anytime Chef Ramsay says “you could kill somebody!”
9.     When Chef Ramsay is shown wearing a Simon Cowell style t-shirt way too tight.
10.     If the end of the show the narrator says “they went back to their old ways” you finish your drink.

 Please make up your own rules as you go along! 

*

Mayan Destruction 2012! (Or I was a bit busy)

So, does this thing have any beer in it?

 Greetings,

So, I've been hiding in an underground bunker for the last year a la Brendan Fraser and to a much lesser extent, Hitler. Apparently I took the this whole "end of the world in 2012" thing a bit too seriously. Also, to be fair, I was hoping to give the whole London Olympics a miss as well as I'm sure it's going to be a f@£$ing nightmare! Unfortunately, I ran out of fags and beer and had to resurface to scavenge for supplies but it turns out everything is fine...well relatively I suppose. I don't think Greece and Spain would agree...

Anyway, back to the nonsense!

Your momma is so...something something.

 Okay, I was working on a blog but got distracted by something(none of your business what!). I therefore have decided to post this joke I wrote instead. That is all.

Your mama is so nasty, that if you added hops and barley to her lady places, in 5-7 days, you could drink beer from her vagina... That joke does require a basic understanding of the fermentation process and the art of beer making... You see i am implying that she has a yeast infection... You see when yeast is added to soaked hops and barley, that's how alcohol is created... You know what, just google it.

That Time I Was Civilized For A Bit in Crouch End

I currently reside in an oasis in North London. No, nobody from that Brit pop group lives here...that I know of, that's not what I mean. Like a pilgrim caravan from the west of America heading West in the 1800's, surrounded by an angry group of “'Injins” from a John Wayne film.

A place of contradiction, a place of yummy mummies, Budgens, Waitrose, leafy green trees, a clock tower, patisserie, tapas bars, baby clothes shops, sushi, a Stephen King story and Ray Davies. Oh, Bob Dylan was here once as well... I have been told. There is also absolutely no sign of a McDonalds or Burger King! (But to be fair, there is a Kentucky Fried Chicken, yes I still call it that, and they suck.)

Crouch End is a middle class start up family paradise with no tube stop that feels a world away from central London and a class or two away from Tottenham Hotspur fans. We are close to all these things yet we feel safe. During the riots in Tottenham and Woodgreen, merely a stones throw from here, we felt no effects of the looting apart from the odd Police helicopter keeping an eye on the action. Our black truffle, fois gras and pan au chocolate supplies remained safe, though Blockbuster video did get its windows smashed. VHS tapes of Howard the Duck for everyone!

There are a few pubs in town that cater to the upwardly mobile and a couple that cater to the more hip twenty something hipster/rockabilly crowd and assuringly, there are still a couple of authentic boozers in town that cater to the locals. I do not count the genital wart that is Wetherspoons as one of these, as I feel like that is where ex pub landlords and proper lushes go to vent their anger and drink themselves to death in the sterile hospital cafeteria environment in order to make their transition to a proper hospital in a wee while a little easier.

I will name one pub by reputation, but not by name and if you live here, you may know it. This place was a dive at one point I was told, with drunks and nutters abound, a real buckets of blood type place. These piss artists have now taken up artist in residence roles in the aforementioned Wetherspoons. It is a pub that on first look, might seem like a drinking hole straight out of the 1950's where your granddad used to drink with nary a woman, apart from the barmaid, to be seen. I have spoken to a few mates around the area and they are afraid to step foot in their and have made up their minds with never even giving the place a chance.

I stumbled in their one late afternoon as they were playing the Manchester United v. Barcelona Champions league final. I am ashamed to say that it is the kind of place I would usually walk straight past, but on this particular day, nowhere else seemed to be showing the match. I got to chatting with the barmen and a few of the patrons at the bar and to my surprise, found them interesting, welcoming and friendly. Something that doesn’t happen to me often as I have the wrong accent here in England and am often mistaken for that of the dreaded Yank! (BTW, I am Canadian.)

I have since made this pub my local. I drop by a couple of days a week to shoot the shit, banter about football and other pieces of nonsense in the news, and have a wee drinky-poo! In fact, I think this place has the best pint of Guinness this side of Dublin. (A note: I was told by the barmen that the taste of a good Guinness is in direct correlation to the length of the hose attached to the keg, shorter is better.) The landlords are very nice and make you feel like one of the gang and introduce you to other regulars, a great thing ,and what a proper local should do. I think I'll miss you most of all Scarecrow!

I now find that due to circumstances, I am leaving my home of six months and moving across the river to South London. A grimier and dirtier place to be sure, and somewhere that I am sure I will become comfortable with in no time, as I am a bit of a chameleon, but I can't help but feel sad.

Crouch End has become my home away from home in a relatively short time and I feel more comfortable here than any other place, apart from Kodaira, Tokyo, I have lived since I left my home in Toronto over ten years ago. So, I shall enjoy my last couple of months here and try to soak in what is surely be become “That time I was civilized for a bit.”