Yet More Things That People Say

"I didn't see the point in carrying on sucking it when it was horrible and all." Kaz trying a liquorice lolly.


"I'd rather be a geek of tea than a geek of men running around playing with their balls." My response to a member of the football cult after being accused of geekness.


"I had mushy peas instead of a drink." Dr K really knows how to live it up!


"Just watched the finale of Torchwood. It's like the TV just got up and shit in my eyes!" I had just watched the finale of Torchwood and it was like the TV had got up and shit in my eyes.


"I think she has a whole camel down her trousers."  Dr K.


"I've worked on magnum for ten year. I did Solero for a few year. All in, I been here 25 year."  Kate at the Wall's ice cream factory.


"Dazza is my second favourite vegetable." Dr K really knows how to compliment a chap.


"You'll get what you're given and you'll be grateful." Carol the dinner lady responding to some helpful advice on how to butter my bacon bun.


"Getting the arthritic pussy injected again ." Dr K makes a pussy joke...  about the cat and his arthritis.  You lot have filthy minds!

All Better Now

Look at me. Look at my smug, self satisfied smile. That's the smug, self satisfied smile of a man who has been given plenty of tea. And there's definitely a little curry related twinkle in my eye.

Dr K and I went over to a friends house for dinner last night. They made me several cups of tea and we ate curry.

So I don't hate you all any more. On the contrary, I love you all. Well, except him. And her. And that lot over there. But I love the rest of you and I want to give you all lovely big hugs because you're awesome.

Oh, look. Dr K just brought me a pint of tea.

Anyone fancy a snog?

Even More Things that People Say

"I'm so sleepy and you look so comfy." A friend referring to the cushion-like properties of my midsection.

"You should eat the evidence, Kaz. Whatever you've done, you should always eat the evidence." I give Dr K excellent advice all the time!

"I had such a bad day at work that I wanted to eat as many animals as I can."  Bezz once ate eight animals in one night.  Or was it nine...?

"Damn you and your silky lining!" A friend complaining that the shiny lining of my coat made it difficult to carry.  But it sounds ruder than that.

"I have tried to clean up my act, but a bird's got to fly, a fish has got to swim and I have to be filthy, inappropriate and childish." Jo, defending her behaviour.

"I don't think anyone will want me to access their dog, Kaz." I state facts, sometimes.  This is one of them.

"Tea was your downfall." A winning Scrabble opponent commenting on my habit for placing the word 'Tea' whenever it was possible.  This little OCD may have been my downfall.

"Holy Christmas Cakes!" An exclamation of surprise from Bezz.

"Karma. Not Korma. Never Korma." My response to a friend who suggested that a bad canteen curry experience might be karmic.

The Relative Horribleness Of Foreign Sweets #3: Poland

So then.  Today I have the pleasure of reviewing the foreign sweets supplied by the Fish Lady, who as I may have mentioned before, is foreign.

Polish, if you want to be specific about it.

Anyway, these sweets were hand-picked by the Fish Lady herself and, presumably, represent the finest confections available in the great country of Poland.

We'll start with the presentation:





As you can see, today's foreign sweets came in a personalised paper bag of the white variety. It was smart enough but, in my opinion, lacked the colourful pizazz of some of the previous entries.  This was made up for with the personal message.  I don't know what the word between 'bag' and 'Poland' is.  I think it might be a picture of a fence or a very small cannon.

Inside the bag were 8 delicious looking sweets:





You'll note that some of the sweets are in shiny wrappers.  I like shiny things, so this is definitely a bonus.

Obviously, I started with a shiny one:





This one looked a little bit like a Ankylosaurus, before I bit into it.  Sweets that look like dinosaurs are definitely brilliant in my book.  I don't know what Ankylosaurases taste like, but the insides of this sweet tasked quite a lot like hazelnut and I have a feeling that Ankylosauruses do not taste like hazelnut inside.  I like this sweet. Here is an ankylosaurus:

Next up is Michalki Zamkowe.




That's what's written on the wrapper anyway.  According to Google, Michalki is a place and Zamkowe translates to Castle, which is all very well but doesn't make much sense as, when unwrapped, the sweet doesn't look like a castle at all.  It did taste nutty again though, so I forgive it.





And then there was the selection of chocolate covered fruity jellies.  You read that right:  chocolate covered fruity jellies.  Those Polish are crazy.

Dear god, they were disgusting. And strangely difficult to photograph, which leads me to suspect that they might be slightly vampiric. On their mother's side.

Sadly, the 'jelly nightmares' brought the whole score down from the nutty heights of 4.5 to a round 3.  Sorry, Fish Lady, your country's sweets only rate a 3/5.  That's the same as Switzerland.

I think we have enough results to start displaying on my patented map of the relative horribleness of foreign sweets:





You'll see, if you zoom in, that the UK and Turkey are a lovely green colour, while we have a disappointingly middling orangey hue for the Swiss and the Poles.

Hopefully, we will be able to populate this map well enough that the budding sweet tourist will be able to plot a route around the globe eating only the tastiest sweets that the world can offer.

Now, I have a feeling that the Fish Lady was lacking in confidence somewhat, in her sweet selection as she also provided me with some white mice and some chocolate boobs.





I'm not sure if they were a bribe or a consolation prize!  Either way, thank you Fish Lady.  Yours was a worthy and most welcome entry!

I'm going to end this post with a bit of a plea.  You see, several of my friends and co-workers have been abroad to exciting places like Jordan, Egypt, Sicily and the Nederlands and returned with exactly no examples of horrible (or otherwise) foreign sweets.  So this whole thing is taking much longer then I'd hoped (by which I mean, I'm not getting as many sweets as I'd like).

So, if you are a Foreigner and your country has sweets, or if you're planning a visit to foreign climes, please send me some - or bring them to me.  Together we can change the world.  Or at least colour it in!

Special Chops, Lamb Madras, Pilau Rice And A Peshwari Naan, Please.

Curry nights with Bezz and the Fish Lady are always great, but last night's was especially awesome!

Not only did I get to eat curry, talk rubbish and discuss the relive merits of fun words like 'perineum' (a word we don't get to use enough in general conversation), I also got presents. And it wasn't even my birthday!

As indicated by the title of this post, I more often than not order the same meal every time I go to this particular curry house. This time however, I had planned to play against type and order something different. Maybe even something I'd never had before.

Events conspired against me, however. And by 'events', I actually mean 'Bezz' and 'The Fish Lady'! I also mean 'presents'.

I like presents nearly as much as I like curry, so you can imagine how delighted I was to receive presents on my curry night. I was almost overwhelmed!

One of the presents was a selection of foreign sweets courtesy of the Fish Lady. More on that will be forthcoming in tomorrow's post.

The main present, though, was an awesome t-shirt. Here's a picture of me wearing it:



And here's a close up on that manly chest detail:



As you can see, it's a visual aid for my favourite curry order... In T-shirt form! Amazing!

Of course, having receive this fantastic gift, it would have been downright rude of me to order something different. So when the waiter asked me for my order, I simply showed him the t-shirt.

When he, and the six other waiters that he called over, had finished laughing at me, they went and got my dinner. Which was delicious.

Now, if you look again at the lovely photo of me in my awesome t-shirt, you'll note that I am holding a shiny pen.

Why, I hear you ask, is Dazza holding a shiny pen in the lovely photo of his awesome t-shirt?

It's because the staff at the Indian restaurant wanted to give me a present, too. I think they were convinced that it was my birthday, a reasonable assumption, given the general flow of gifts in my direction, and not one that I was inclined to contradict.

It was all wrapped up in pretty paper and everything!

Here it is:



I don't think it's real gold! But it's a damn fine looking pen!

So thank you to Bezz and the Fish Lady for all of my presents. And thank you to the staff at the Taj Brasserie in Winterbourne for the tasty dinner and the shiny pen. And thank you to Dr K for her boobs. And thank you to everyone for a super duper evening!

Adventures In Hairdressing

It has been a while since my last haircut. It's gone from a smart, although slightly convict-esque grade 2 to an unruly mop. To be fair, it's probably been about six months and you can't expect hair to be anything other than feral after six months of neglect.

Anyway, on a good day, it kinda looked like this:




I think you'll agree that even this is pretty unkempt, but most of the time it was just an unholy mess.




And then on Saturday, in the supermarket, without any influence from me, this happened:




Not the pop tarts. That was all my influence (Dr K made me put most of them back, anyway). The hair.

I spontaneously developed a side parting. One thing led to another and this picture ended up on Facebook and then someone posted the most terrible comment that could be afflicted on a man:

"How much do you look like your dad? Nice hair!"

Oh my god.

Something had to be done.

So my solution was to allow a slightly drunk, Scottish person to take the clippers to my head.

So we started with what appeared to be random hacking:




But it was not as random or hacky as it first appeared. Obviously (and not because of the drunkenness or the Scottishness), it was considered an important part of the hair clipping process to create... er... an artistic vision.









Nice, huh?

Anyway, despite a minor accident somewhere around the back, it all turned out fine in the end and now I look quite a lot like a convict again!




As an added bonus, we persuaded Dr K to create an awesome moustache from my discarded clippings!




Brilliant!

Chocolate Starfish

I'll keep today's post short. I know your time is valuable and I wouldn't want you to to waste too much of it reading my inane rubbish!

Yesterday, I bought a cake. Well, actually it was more of a biscuit. I bought it solely because it was in the shape of a star and was covered in chocolate.
That's right, it's a chocolate starfish.


What makes it even better, was that I let my good friend Scotty eat my chocolate starfish. He very much enjoyed it.

I would like to point out to any hopeful chocolate starfish eaters out there, that I don't let just anyone eat my chocolate starfish.

The end.

More Things That People Say

People don't just stop saying brilliant things because I write a blog post about it. Here's nine more things that people have said since the last post!

"You gave me quite a bit of stuffing."
Dr K compliments me on my portion size... at dinner.

"Would you rather be a hag or a crone?"
I ask some really thought provoking questions!

"My chuff doesn't play music you know."
Dr K explains female anatomy to me.

"Get out of my bum!"
Dr K found my hand underneath her on the sofa once too often.

"Give it to your Daddy."
My mum was actually asking me to let my dad have the restaurant bill rather than encouraging some sort of weird incestuous homosexual encounter.

"The last thing you want is a leaking cat."
Dr K talking about... well... leaking cats.

"I've never ROFLed quite that much!"
Me, after literally rolling in the floor in laughter. In my defense, my little brother put me up to it.

"You should know this stuff by now, Archimedes!"
Dr K's comment when my bath almost overflowed.

"As long as she doesn't get her mash out as well as her bangers."
I love Dr K's food based euphemisms.

The Things People Say

Sometimes people say brilliant things. And sometimes they say quite dull things that are brilliant when quoted out of context.

Here are nine brilliant quotes from me and people that I know:

"I don't want to be an old minger."
My boss couldn't decide whether she was going to go with 'whinger' or 'moaner', so went with an unfortunate combination of both.

"I could put up with a few kids if it meant I could have some sausage."
I was debating the relative merits of attending barbecues at which there would be screaming children when I made this faux pas.

"It's all right, mate. I'm just just enjoying your smell."
Speaking of barbecues, this was my neighbour complimenting another resident's barbecue.

"It's poo o'clock."
I have a bottom shaped clock that's right once a day.

"I've just had a shower. I don't want to be sprayed with your cheesy crumbs."
Dr K came up with this gem when she came out of the bathroom to find me eating cheese straws.

"It's good to have stability and consistency in your life, even if that stability is the consistency of vomit."
This was me commenting on the dependability of a friend's dog's travel sickness.

"I celebrate my idiocy."
Me again. 'Nuff said.

"I've got VD Daz, and I don't know where to put it."
Dr K during a particularly tough game of scrabble.

"I'll just play with this while the girls play with their boxes."
Scotty was more interested in playing video games than helping Dr K and Gayle construct flat pack furniture.

Yet Another Post About Curry (Also A Graph!)

I managed to go a week and two days without a curry. The withdrawal symptoms were getting too much to bear.

I went to my usual haunt with the lovely Dr K and the mighty Mr Berry and indulged in special chops and lashings of toilet humour, some of which involved thinking up boob related names for curries, such as Mammary Madras, Boobie Bhuna, Jubbly Jalfrezi and Titty Tikka Masala (all courtesy of Dr K) Don't ask why. It just happened. You had to be there.

Apparently exposure to me drags Mr Berry's sense of humour into the gutter (a place I believe it gravitates to naturally) and keeps it there, allegedly against its will.

As has become customary in this blog, a graph has been produced to illustrate the Daz Effect:


Back to the curry narrative: You know you eat out too much when, whilst giving you the bill, the waiter says 'So we'll see you again tomorrow night, huh?'

I don't care. The curry is good.

Afterwards we stopped by Mr Berry's house and tried his home made apple pie ice cream. Man did that taste of apple pie. My mouth was simultaneously delighted and confused! It doesn't experience those two states together very often.

A Nice Day... Apart From The Traffic

Well, I did get dressed today.

You've probably surmised from my posts this week that I've been skiving from work. And I really lucked* out with the weather. Look:


This photo was actually taken when we got home from Leicester on Sunday, but the weather has been similarly fantastic all week. It's brilliant. For the first time this year, we can sit out in the sun and... er... drink tea.

Dr K informs me that there are other things one can do in the garden. Something called 'mowing' and something else called 'pruning'. And then there was something about putting wet clothes out there, but that's clearly a stupid idea. They'd get all grassy.


Although I've spent the vast majority of my week off (well, the bits when I wasn't adventuring in the East Midlands, anyway) putting together a music video for Stead (god, I never want to hear that song again), I have taken the occasional opportunity to pop out and enjoy the sun. It would be rude not to. Unfortunately, sometimes the popping out can backfire horribly.

This afternoon, for example, I popped out to the shops for a few minutes and, on the way home, got stuck in a godawful traffic jam on the motorway. It took me two hours to get home. What was particularly annoying was that the vast majority of the delay was within a mile of my house. In fact for the last half an hour or so, I could actually see my house from where I was parked on the motorway.

I shouldn't complain though. Someone was obviously having a far worse day than me.

Steve Jobs for example. I'll tell you why: while I was at the shops, I noticed the enormous queue for iPads outside the Apple store. What caught my attention in particular though, was that the staff were handing out sandwiches to the people in the queue.

Do I even need to tell you what happened next? Here, let Steve and Bill tell it:



Tonight I shall be going out for my slightly delayed birthday tea with all of my favourite people and Stead. Oh yeah, and the Fish Lady.

Dr K just came in wearing a lovely dress and asked me if I would be getting changed out of my scruffy jeans and Batman t-shirt. I hadn't really planned that far ahead yet, but I suppose I'd better go and put my birthday suit on!

(*you probably don't need to know what Sigmund Freud made me mistype here)

I Was Stitched Up

Two very good friends stitched me up big time today. They preyed upon my good nature and natural obligingness to convince me to go to the local shopping centre - on a Saturday afternoon, mind - so that they could buy food in Marks & Spencer.

It was horrible.

First, in their infinite wisdom, the 'Traffic Management' people decided to cone off random bits of the car park which meant we had to park in the worst possible space, 400 miles from the place we wanted to be. There were a million people per square foot, all thronging around me, desperately trying to spend their money on shit. And there was nothing there I wanted.

It probably doesn't sound all that bad, but you really shouldn't underestimate the sheer hatred I have for that place.

But because I am a lovely chap, I forgive them. Also, they bought me tea and cake in John Lewis.

In other news, Dr K caught me sleeping with a 15 year old boy. I won't deny it because she took a photo: