Chowdaaah

So, we live in the sort of hotel that has a 'Social Club' made up of locals. They gather of a friday evening for their weekly 'meat raffle'*. Anyway, this week, Phillipa from Sandyford won a massive tray of seafood. Enough to feed an army. (or defeat an army, if they were big, like in that film Galaxy Troopers, but they weren't massive.)

Anyway, last night, we got it together, and decided to make some seafood chowder. All the pieces came into play: recipe, ingredients, kitchen (kinda let ourselves into the restaurant kitchen) beer, camera. Anyway, between one thing and another, we started having a puppet show with the crabs, which (because we're normal) eventually turned romantic between them. Which, of course was the moment that Leigh (manager of the hotel) decided to walk in to the kitchen.

While myself and phillipa are forcing dead crustaceans to perform unnatural acts on each other, complete with giggles and sound effects.

I'm so proud.




(*ok, see the way i put that in inverted commas? Yeah...it's just a raffle where they give away meat. In fact, I should go back and take out those commas. y'know, because it makes me look like i'm looking down my nose at both the meat raffle and the social club. Just because it makes people happy to get prizes of 8 pounds of steak on a friday evening. Who the hell do i think i am, really?)