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Yesterday: No drink. Some food. One short walk. Bed very early.

Today: Ma took dad to the local mass (for young people and those whose family’s have been middle class for more than 3 generations, that means they went to a Catholic church. My father was the second Catholic in the family since the Reformation, after my brother Basil (fka Harry). My mother is Orthodox, but does consider God the concept to me more important than the franchise.

What that meant was I had the house to myself for the best part of two hours. Marvellous (I have to fell you at this point that my TestEdit told me I had misspelt Marvellous. I wrote Marvelous english speeling into the search engine (the search engine I cannot be arsed changing), and found out that Glynny fat fingers had risen forth after just 7/12th of a bottle of champaign, what was left of Vina Maipo (Basil’s choice of wine when he took ma for the big Christmas shop) and just a pint of sherry with lemonade.

Any road up. The point is I had a truly lovely time in the kitchen (and put all the ballbearings back into the broken wheel of my dad’s walking aid, and packed them in with vasiline {whilst in my pyjamas and with Top Gear on}); and washed the jumper ma had forced him to surrender last night.

I then sorted things for the recipe, which I saw on ITV’s Christmas Cook’s Challenge. I did look for a link to the spicy duck (we had duck for Christmas) recipe from Brian the Yorkshire tv chef. Unfortunately I agreed to do a survey for itv . com 9note how that will not form a hotlink on any browser), and that survey helped flush out any unused anger, and is at below in italics.

It is a shame itv are so bad, because it was a cracking recipe. I fried the cooked (in parts) duck with sesame oil; then gently fried the fancy stuffing. Added diced onion and crushed garlic, Added chilli mixed nuts, that would have hung around until Basil next visited; and a cartoon of chopped tomato,

I had already boiled small patoto cubes in the liquid from yesterday’s soup, with the red bone of duck I was not frying. Then fried cubes of rye bread. The dried potato (which had been mixed with tumeric). Controlled the freshly opened bottle of champaign (by me, it’s my job) and we all had a lovely dinner.

Glyn’s comment on itv . com

How angry do you cretins want to make people? That’s you designing this mind numbinly shite survey. What do you expect to find out from asking more questions than black youths being talked to by coppers near the end of their shift?

Clueless wankers is now the impression I have of itv . com. If you do not understand that people on the internet will, generally, answer no more than 10 questions and then skip, then it underlines the fact that Itv is being run by people who could not find anything better.

Also, I suspect; no more because after I got bored I was seeing pages as fast as I could press return; that there was a value gien to any page with no answer given. I doubt I will complain about the survey techique, but as a matter of statistics ‘no answer’ is the most siginificant indication of a badly designed survey.
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