This is a little absurd, but I have recently been drawn into the dark underworld of kangaroos.
Following a highly intelligent discussion about the alleged aggressivity and boxing skills of Skippy, I, stupidly enough, proclaimed that I would be willing to put on my boxing gloves - if only I had a pair - and face such a creature anytime.
This in turn led me on to conduct some research on the topic, which I am happy to share with you: (more…)
…for the most obscure Facebook group goes to “I’m From Serbia, Not Siberia You Ignorant Fuck!”
One member writes:
Once, while visiting relations on the other side of the family, a friend of the relatives came over and asked my mother and sister why they weren’t wearing headscarves. I was at loss for words at this lady’s ignorance. She had confused Serbia with Syria…
Apparently, it must be a bit of an issue; the group has grown to more than 800 members in a week.
[Bonus bonus info] Borat’s cousin did the website, I think.
[Update 12 November] Giles Coren is, believe it or not, even more ruthless in the Times:
The pancakes were huge, thin, flappy cold things, as close to eating out of a used hanky as I have got since I lost interest in my own snot.
The Guardian’s Jay Rayner was never the pleasing type when it comes to matters of taste:
There are many words I could use to describe the food served here, but this is a family newspaper and none of them should be available before the watershed. I can’t deny my disappointment because the remaining candidates - awful, calamitous, the horror, the horror - don’t quite do it justice without the visceral attack of the expletive…
We finished - and I use that term loosely, for we did not finish anything - with a grim slice of cherry cheesecake with a jelly topping so solid you could have used it to culture bacteria in a petri dish.
Reading this review, I felt like the kind of type who slows down when passing by road accidents, strangely intriguing but utterly wrong: Rayner reviews London’s first luxury Ukrainian restaurant (and probably closes it, too.)
On a slightly more cheerful note, Oxford’s own Big Bang is a true gem, serving nothing but bangers, mash and a wonderfully unpretentious atmosphere.
Hah! I am going to spend NYE in a place called Llawr-y-Glyn, Caersws, Powys. Good for the soul, great for my carbon footprint - how ethical indeed!