YANNY MAC'S TEN-MINUTE SUPPERS

Having just read the Literary Review of the Year, and noted the huge absence of poetry anthologies & blogs from the overall Top 100 publications, I've decided that to make this writing lark more profitable, I'm going to get into recipe books.

This is my first recipe from my forthcoming collection Yanny Mac's Ten Minute Suppers.

FRIED EGG SARNIE

I always use the freshest eggs I can find, preferably from a hen, but I like to experiment as well.
(Check the little stickers on the front of the box - the later the Use By date, the fresher the egg).
My old housemate Joel used to fry his eggs in olive oil.
Although this is proper posh, I tend to bung mine in hot vegetable oil, and IMHO, I think they taste well nice.
The olive oil can sometimes make stuff taste a bit foreign, but a lot of people like that.

For the bread, always use fresh.
If you can't get a bloomer from Greggs, get the best sliced stuff from Tesco.
DON'T GO FOR VALUE BREAD.
It's full of chemicals that might one day kill you.

Real butter is hard to find these days, but if you can get Vitalite or Flora this will go a long way.
If you can't get a spread, try mayonnaise or tommy ketchup.

When your egg is properly fried (I like mine well done - the wife likes salmonella with hers) stick it in between the bread slices and bosh!

Voila!
An egg sarnie to take away the winter blues, and put a spring in your step.


Ingredients:
Eggs
Bread
Butter (optional)
Oil (for cooking)

**For a little something different, try some ground white pepper & table salt for an extra kick.

TOP 3 NON-PREMIERSHIP ADVERTISING HOARDINGS (w/e 11-09-11)

Is anyone reading this, or has this been an 18month-long excuse, just to stay up late on a Saturday night?
Does anyone care that the BBC has a 'no commercial advertising' policy, yet every weekend, Match Of The Day gives over nearly two hours to punting Barclays Bank, McDonalds, Budweiser, Nike and BetFred?

No worries.
As the summer break has just finished, this week's theme is 'holidays'.
(I'd like to dedicate this to Colchester United's celebrity supporter, Luke Wright, who is currently on tour in Australia and China)

CAMPBELLS CARAVANS - Preston North End

WALDEGRAVES HOLIDAY PARK: MERSEA ISLAND - Colchester Utd

HAYCOCK HOTEL - Peterborough Utd

The Incredible Story of The Fat Controller & Julian Assange's Penis

*Apologies*
I should've alerted you to the fact that this is a continuing 'Campaign Update'.

Tesco have finally removed the incredibly annoying Noddy Car from outside of their store.
Instead of "Come & play with me in Toyland' repeated over and over again, by a man who sounds suspiciously like Joe Pasquale, we now have the dulcet tones of Ringo Starr as the Fat Controller from Thomas the Tank Engine.

Julian Assange has not been seen in Ellingham or Beccles for over 48hrs now.
Knowing him, he's probably on some escapade in that London, chasing skirt and following his penis!
That lad will get himself in trouble one day. you mark my words.

Campaign Update (Assange's Birthday Party & Asbestosis)

So the reason we can't have a Wetherspoons is because of too much asbestos.
When did product quality or customer care become part of Tim Martin's remit?
Now we've got an empty pub, slap-bang in the centre of town, that no-one wants, and may be a danger to public health.

The King's Head stood there for nearly 400years without any problems.
JD Wetherspoon came along, and fucked Beccles into a hole.

The checkout manager at Tesco is a rude cow.
Yesterday she closed two tills, as I was obviously approaching them, without a word of apology or consideration.
If it wasn't for their Value cider, I'd boycott them.

Julian Assange was 40 on July 3rd. We invited him to our Birthday Cricket game on the common, but he declined to attend, favouring a party with Vivienne Westwood and the girl who plays the lead in Australia's 'Rocky Horror Picture Show'.
I'm not sure if they slept over, or if Jules drank so much, he lost his moral-compass, but he did end up nicking some of our cricket attendees.
I just wish he would get over the whole 'Ricky Ponting' thing.

BRING BACK MARY WHITEHOUSE (Norfolk Showground)

Thank God for Sarah Teather & David Cameron!
A proposed website for like-minded people to complain about the vile muckiness that most of us are subjected to on a daily basis.
I sincerely hope they let Mary Whitehouse be a moderator.

Only the other day, my teenage daughter asked me to get tickets for an event at the Norfolk Showground, a venue that has, in the past, showcased 'Wheels of Steel' and ' The East Anglian Game Fayre'.
I asked the ticket-vendor who was performing at this so-called 'weekender', and you can only imagine how disgusted I felt on hearing the line-up.

One of the musicians claimed to be a 'Professor', although subsequent investigations suggest he didn't even get his GCSEs, let alone a PGCE.
This is how peadophiles roll, I'm told.
Another pop-star seemed happy that he had a temper, albeit a very small one, and another felt proud of his achievement in not being able to increase his stride.
Do they not teach PE in schools anymore?
I can only assume that the organisers have their Rex Harrison films mixed-up, as the appearance of Eliza Doolittle alongside a talking, singing chipmunk, suggests that the doctor is not in the house.

The Norfolk Showground, once an arena for the Best in Breed, is now a breeding-ground for the worst in filth & degradation.

Please Mary Whitehouse.
Come back and save us all......

BBW - Going down on a Sunday

A lot of people (including me) thought it would be WWW come the final hour.
Wigan, Wolves and West Ham, were many pundits favourites to go down (and I came across many more who thought it could be BBC)
I guess BBW will satisfy those who don't like A, B or E (or even BMW)?

Stats-wise, 'Nigella's Tits' was my finest moment.........

Campaign Update (The mysterious reappearance of Julian Assange,butter & nipples)

Julian Assange was seen by my neighbour, signing his tag-thing, yesterday morning in Beccles Police Station.

He was accompanied by a cameraman, who he referred to as 'one of his own'.

They took shots of him entering the police station, and different angle shots of him signing the register.

Assange's original bail conditions (that were made public) required him to attend between 2pm and 5pm in the afternoon.

All press were advised that there was to be NO FILMING or PHOTOGRAPHY inside the station.

Is Julian Assange still on bail, or is he putting the final touches to his forthcoming film?

If he is required to meet bail guidelines, why is he deliberately flouting them?

We say "Oi Oi Oi Jules. What's going on?"

In other news, Tesco Beccles have re-stocked Country Life butter, but it would appear at the expense of Ecovert washing-up liquid.

A customer comment form has been submitted.

And in rather sad news, the media attention given to the increases of breast & skin cancer in women under 30, appears not to have been heeded by the bright young ladies of Suffolk.

Following two days of warm sunshine, nearly every girl in this small town literally had their tits out today.

I thought I saw melanoma at one point;

I can only hope it was nipple.

Take care of your bodies girls, and cover up when you can.

Nigella's Tits

I lunged for the soy
and juddered to a bumpy slide
twixt the plum sauce & mustard

A dirty condiment cupboard
well past its sell-by suggestion
and covered in dates

I suppressed the feeling
a yearning to clean, yet nothing
more than a passing wipe

A wipe that with glossing
gave a sheen so inviting
it made me feel like Nigella's tits

Fliers/stroke/Posters

Luke’s in my kitchen

And he asks me why I’ve got a flier

for a Geldeston Locks

gig on my wall?

And I say

“Cos it was a good gig”

And he says

“But no-one turned up.

In fact, more than half the acts weren’t even there.

And it’s got my name on it.

I didn’t perform.

I was there for the conkers, but I didn’t perform!”

“It was a good gig” I say

It’s like my favourite poster, from the good old days, is like..... the Hammersmith gig”

“Yeah but. You didn’t perform” says Luke

“Yeah. But I was on the poster.

I made it to the gig, but I had serious man-flu.

So I went home.

All the way from West London to Norfolk.

On the train

With man-flu.

On my own.”

“It was a shit gig” says Luke.

And I say

“Yeah.

But we’d’ve never’ve got it

if I hadn’t felt-up the promoter's tits”

And Luke says

“Fair point mate.

Fair point.”