So, lets see what’s in the fridge…
Hmm…
A couple of manky mushrooms…
Half a week old packet of Feta…
An egg…
Some Parma ham (3 curly slices)
Slowly liquefying bag of salad...
Some chillies…
Half a broccoli…
Some butter…
Almost empty tub of Guacamole…
Bit of a loaf…
So from these humble ingredients I shall be concocting this magnificent feast:
Is that a man in there... or something?...
Wow, tell me how!
It's quite straightforward as long as you follow this very simple guide.
It's quite straightforward as long as you follow this very simple guide.
Here’s how:
1. Get the best Thai takeaway menu out of the kitchen drawer where you stuff all the menus that are rammed through your letterbox every day of the week.
2. You’ll need a phone and a credit/ debit card. Alternatively you can use cash, but you will need to get this ready.
3. Phone the Thai place and order a Green Chicken Curry and some rice. I like egg-fried rice because I am a lardy bastard, you may want to try jasmine or steamed rice.
4. Maybe get some of those spicy prawn crackers.
5. Don’t order a starter, I know it’s very tempting but you just won’t finish everything and if you do you will feel bloated and be wracked with feelings of self loathing.
6. Here’s the important bit, speak slowly and clearly when giving your address. Remember the person on the other end of the phone may not use English as a first language, and if they miss hear you because you’re babbling away in that, ‘they should bloody well speak British as good as like what I do’ way that you do from time to time, you won’t get your Thai green curry. And in that circumstance who’s the one to lose out?
7. Agree a payment method.
8. Wait. My local Thai delivers within 20 minutes, depending on which evening it is and their proximity to you, you may be required to wait a little longer.
9. Once it arrives pay the fella and dish up.
10. Stuff your face and feel all happy as the chilli works its magic.
Perfik.
For pudding? Sod off, I've just bloody made dinner, sort your own pud out!
13 comments:
You know, like a total dick I read that list about five times, looking for chicken. Tit.
I love Thai food. Those foreigners don't half know how to cook.
They certainly do.
Thai when sober.
Kebab when drunk.
Of course, you want to taste the thai and forget the kebab.
Can you get thai where you are garfer? Or is it make-your-own?
Thai from a jar I'm afraid, although we do have a resident Malaysian who will rustle up something edible for a small fee.
You lazy cunt.
And that poor Thai chef was probably banking on a night off tonight too - and there you've gone and spoiled it.
Who mentioned kebabs? Oh yeah, Garfy. I can't fucking stand kebabs (of the doner variety) - for all we know we could be eating cooked slices of some hideous creatures arse or - worse - it's poop tube.
I don't mind the skewered ones though.
Skewered kebabs with chunks of meat on, I mean. Not skewered poop tubes.
Does anyone else get the feeling that Sniffy would eat almost anything?
*shudders to think what she's eaten lately*
Yep lazy as charged. Feeling great now, full of chilli. Yummy.
I'm not a kebab man either. They look well dubious in the shop windows.
I use to live on a street with a chinese takeaway at the end.
Very handy.
I used to just pop out, place my order, and be back before the adds had finished. Great.
Then quarter of an hour later go get it. Super.
For some reason this annoyed my wife "Why don't you just phone them?" She'd ask.
"Cos they're just there." I'd say.
"But I've got their number just here." She'd say.
"Yeah but they're just there." and so on.
This small tiny niggle grew however.
"Just phone them"
"No they're just there!"
"I've got their number here."
"I'm not wasting the money on a phone call when they're just there!"
"You tight bastard! That's typical of you!"
"And you're a lazy bitch. It's just there. Like five houses away!"
"It's more like seven."
"Why don't you call them then?"
"I don't like to. They don't understand me."
"They're not the only ones!"
"Just call them here's the number. Dick head"
Well it couldn't go on. One of us had to back down and weeks later that guy was me.
"All right where's this bloody phone number?"
"Here."
They picked up on other end.
"Er yeah, I'd like to order some food to pick up please. I would like some sweet and sour vegetables. A portion of rice, er egg fried rice. er chips and erm prawn crackers."
"Sorry mate I think you got the wrong number. This is just a house!"
"Right."
So I told her her number was shit and piled out of the door to the chinese.
"Get their number." She shouted after me.
You're making it up Speenal - you've never lived in a house, you don't have a wife and you don't even have a computer, which makes your comment and fantastic blog all the more bizarre.
We're you still living in Brighton when i lived opposite the knocking shop on Bentham.
I was always popping over and placing an order, coming back and going to pick up my...
... no, never did that really.
I was going to write about Madman and how you introduced both that and Hellboy to me, maybe later in the week.
*wipes pee from seat*
spleenal's comment is the funniest I've read this year!
Award!
You should read the comics he writes - very good indeed. He's only 3ft tall y'know, and ha squint.
Our Chinese has been shut for bloody ages; it's awful.
I was getting really worried that they'd been on holiday in China and squished in the recent disaster, but I saw the woman larking about on the street corner last night - hopefully waiting for a delivery of spuds.
Fuckers. Takeaways: you build yourself up for one, but can anything match the disappointment when they're not open?
*wonders if Sniffy realises the humour in her comment 'hopefully waiting for a delivery of spuds.'*
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