So... listen to some quarterwit reveal that they've quit their job to "really concentrate on my music, man" then massacre Don't Stop Believin' or watch Miranda and Annetha try to relax the gluten for their biscuits?
No contest. Will Louise's stained glass window biscuits impress? Will the judges like poor helium-voiced Jonathan's honey contrivances? Will Jasminder's caramel set?
Oh shut up, it's fabulous. You never get anyone saying: "I'm getting emotional over a shortbread biscuit" on The X-Factor. Plus you don't get the sociological history of shortbread and Scotland from Simon Cowell, either.
How are we all?
I got the job I was after, much to my surprise because the interview was horrible and I thought I'd messed it up. I now have an extremely posh job title. Also a vast pile of problems because, in classic 'be careful what you wish for' style, the job is a proper nightmare. On the plus side I got a pay rise and the only idiot telling me what to do is me.
I haven't killed anyone yet. I did come a bit close once but I think I got away with it.
Oooooh. They're doing scones now. The judges are so critical; I love it. Go on, silver fox judge, talk more about kneading. Scold us, judges, scold us *hard*. [On a slightly related subject: we pronounced it scones to rhyme with stones where I grew up, but the BBC narrator pronounces it to rhyme with cons. A class marker, I suspect. But then I also one of those objectionable lower class northern sorts who calls lunch dinner and supper tea.]
I am taking the Eurostar to Paris next month for three days because M's dear one is in Canada for a month and everyone in the universe is borrowing his flat, which is gorgeous and near Republique. All you have to do is leave him a bottle of wine and tickle the cat, Toto. I am going to go to all the museums I've not been to before. Though not the Louvre. Too many folk. I'd rather watch City of Death.
OH NOES! David has problem meringues!
I've been listening to a lot of music lately and I'm going to start posting about it. A short recommendation: Fyfe Dangerfield's album. It is lovely. I shall also be mostly switching to Dreamwidth, where I am finisterre.. I'd very much appreciate any friending suggestions for people on Dreamwidth. It's much easier to read at work without getting caught.
Which is possibly a good thing.
Delightfully, that fingerless twerp Ranulph Fiennes is patronising the presenter while talking about famous failure Scott of the Antarctic and his hard tack. I don't know why he's patronising her, he's the berk who paid £4,000 for a stale biscuit.
Woe! Aneetha and Louise have gone! Aneetha had a scone disaster and Louise put seven times as much sugar in her first biscuits as she should have. Still, I am suspicious that the disastrous David has got through. And next time: BREAD! (Judging by the coming soons, someone put Mars Bars in the bread? I have to be hearing that wrong)
I don't need The Wire or Mad Men. I have Baking Idol. (also Come Dine With Me the rest of the week)
:::is defiantly unfashionable:::