Ferly the Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

Ferly the Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

She had never stayed in a hotel by herself before. She’d dreamt of fine, elegant hotel rooms with beautiful views of far away cities, and even though she was just downtown in her own little city, she felt like she had traveled to another part of the world. She left her spare room key on the bar with the man she’d met that night. He had complimented her on her smile and her eyes and he had treated her like she was special, so she left her hotel room key fob on the bar, flashed him her “fantastic smile” and batted her “gorgeous eyes”, and walked slowly out of the hotel lounge without looking back. She ordered champagne and strawberries from room service, then filled the oversized tub and added a doubled dose of bubble bath before slipping into something more comfortable. She waited, postured on the bed wearing just her best negligee and her fantastic smile.

The phone rang and startled her. She awoke a little disoriented and scrambled for the phone. It was the 8:00 am wake-up call she’d asked for when she checked in. She sat listening to a recorded voice telling her that breakfast was served until 9:00 am, and check out was at 11:00 am as she looked around the room.  There were the expensive strawberries and champagne she couldn’t afford, here in the expensive hotel room she couldn’t afford. She hung up the phone and tried to keep herself together as she began gathering her things, but as soon as she saw herself in the bathroom mirror she lost it. Her lipstick and eye makeup had smeared around her face, creating two black eyes and half a clown mouth. She sat on the edge of the tub and burst into tears. She pushed up the drain plug switch and the water level immediately began to get lower. She reached for a washcloth and accidently dropped it in the now freezing cold, bubbless tub water. She retrieved it, wrong it out and put it over her face. The coolness felt good against her hot skin, so she cleaned herself up and went into the main room. Why the hell should this go to waste? She thought, as she stuffed strawberries into her face and the tears began to flow again. She drank champagne straight from the bottle, although cold, it was a bit flat. Still, it helped to wash the strawberries down and the tears stop flowing. A nice buzz from the champagne was enough motivation to get herself and her things together.

She looked herself again as she closed the door behind her and headed to the desk to checkout. Her modest dress made her nearly invisible but still she still made an effort to smile as she passed the other guests and staff, with her clean, make-up less face. Her mind wandered to thinking how many people steal from hotel rooms and if the staff would think her a better guest because she had stolen nothing and tidied her room before leaving. She waited in a long line of people who seemed extremely annoyed at being in a line. No one looked at each other, they just deep sighed, looked at their watches and deep sighed again. She was happy not to see mister “Wow, you have a fantastic smile, gee I could just look into your gorgeous eyes all night, but I don’t want to have sex with you”. She began to look at her watch and deep sigh.

When it was her turn at the desk, she explained that she had lost her other room key fob. The desk clerk waved one hand without looking up and said “oh that’s ok, someone turned it in”. She began to dig violently through her purse to find something, using it as a ruse to collect herself and fight back the tears. The desk clerk started tapping a pen on a clipboard to get her attention. Rude! She yelled at him, and he rolled his eyes at her. She signed the form and stormed out, telling herself that the clerk was lucky she didn’t ask to see a manager over his appalling behavior.

Now back home, the empty place with no husband, no kids, no pets and no warmth, she dropped her bag and her purse on the floor, kicked her shoes off so hard they hit the shelves in front of her and knocked over several photos she has been meaning to pack away. She stepped over the mess of broken glass and wondered into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. Her champagne buzz had just about worn off and there was no one around to step in the glass or stop her from drinking a bottle of wine before noon.

Theme: Freedom, Sex, Food and Key Chain Fobs

Theme: Freedom, Sex, Food and Key Chain Fobs

Back in January I was looking through the themes for 2015, and this month’s theme: “Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fob,” had me puzzled. I thought that it was an English/American saying with a non-literal interpretation, but no. To be fair, English is not my native language although most of my day passes in English. I am using it to get by. I leave it to you native-English-speaking types to account how the sentence “Some people can’t stand sitting,” came to make sense. Anyway, I threw a 4-sided dice (yes, they exist) as to which keyword I should focus on, and this month we talk about food. I leave the freedom, sex and key chain fobs for the rest of my co-bloggers to cover. So in line with a zine I went out and challenged myself to make some food. I am now a man that has made his own tomato sauce. And it was easy! Do not let anyone else tell you otherwise. It is easy.

You take 1 kg. of tomatoes. As to which type of tomato, I do not care. Ain’t nobody got time for that, and several gastro-scientists on the web have already posted deep analysis of which tomatoes to work with. They did the research and I ignored it. Which type of tomato should you use? The red ones. Simple as that. 1 kg of fresh red tomatoes. Anything else, I will not be responsible for the outcome. You take the tomatoes and wash them for dirt and whatever else they are crawling in from the market. And without any further processing you throw them in a pot with water and put them to a boil. Any boil. After 2-5 minutes in the boiling water, the skin of the tomatoes will crack. When cracked, pull them out of the boiling water. Might want to use a strainer. Put the cracked-skin tomatoes into a some cold/ice water to cool them off. Once sufficiently cooled off, you take each tomato and peel the skin off. I did this on 1 kg. of tomatoes in 5 minutes. It is easy. Messy, but easy. Remember to talk the center stalk-bit out as well. Ain’t nobody wanna eat that. Use a knife. When should be left is just below 1 kg. of red lumps.

When you want to add to your tomato sauce does not matter. I used 1 red bell pepper and 1 red onion, sauteed with paprika. You do you, and it will be fine. I recommend at least adding the onion. Red bell pepper, garlic, cauliflower, beef stew, strawberry pudding, loafers or babies is all up to you. No turmeric though. Never turmeric. You may use curry if you want to, but no pure turmeric. This shit is not going to get commercial red as it stands, no need to add lying treacherous yellow colouring to the mix. Once you have your ingredients and your peeled tomatoes ready to go, we do things the Irish way: Put it in a pot and boil it until you can eat it using a straw. The second messy part of the job is crushing the peeled tomatoes. I did so by hand because my paprika sauteed onion and red pepper motivated me to proceed macho-man style. You may use a blender or a food processor if your fancy ass kitchen has one of those, but I do not. Put a peeled tomato into your hand, put your hand into a pot and crush ever so gently. Once all the tomatoes have become a red lumpy mush in a pot you squeeze the lumps, too. Until everything is a red liquid-ish mass. If you have done some research into the best kind of tomatoes to use, you may have a lot of liquid in the pot now, or not so much. Does not matter much though. You add all the other ingredients, 1 tsp. of oregano and 1 tsp. of thyme and put it to a boil. And after seasoning your tomato sauce extra carefully, you may punch a wall to gain +3 manliness buff to counter the “growing vagina”-debuff you will be sprouting at this point.

You boil this liquid mass until so much water has been reduced that you are happy with the consistency. Depending on your choice of tomatoes and added ingredients this likely takes between 30 minutes and three hours.

Now, what I got out of it after using a camping handheld blender to remove excess lumps and reach my favoured consistency: a few small lumps in a homogenous sauce, I ended up with about a half liter of tomato sauce.

You may want to sweeten the sauce to your liking using sugar or artificial sweetener if you are so inclined, or diabetes is ailing you. If you do not prefer it sweet, you may opt out of this. Taste and spice, that is the key here. Some salt and pepper should be added at some point in the mix, preferably while the sauce is boiling, but you can do so subsequently, if you want. This is not set in stone. None of it is. You boil tomatoes with ingredients. It is not rocket science. It is cooking. No need to make things harder than they are.

The sauce was not as red as the store-bought tomato sauce. But in terms of taste, I have never had better, and I have been to Italy and I have had authentic home-made Italian tomato sauce before. It trumps the store-bought tomato sauce by miles in terms of taste and you get to control what is in it. No artificial colours or preservatives. No added chemicals. You know what is in it. And it tastes much much better. In terms of price, I paid 12-13$ for the ingredients and seeing as I can get half a liter of store-bought tomato sauce for 0.99$…

There is an old saying, you should never cross a river to get water. This does depend if it is a particularly nice trip, or the water at the end is much cleaner and tastes better than the water from the river. If you know what I mean. 😉

GP by GP – Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

GP by GP – Freedom, Sex, Food & Key Chain Fobs

I have stepped out of the ship Buzz, almost on my own accord. It is the only fucking freedom I have left on this ridiculous trip. I am going to choke you Buzz, there is nothing else to do to you. I hate you and your stupid face, I am sorry that it will end like that, but choking you will be the only highlight on this arduous trip. You could have sent anyone else from the ship, but choosing me due to my attitude will not improve the end result noticeably.

What? I won’t keep it down out here, the smell is coming in through the suit and yelling at you is my only entertainment as I waddle. By the way Buzz, while I have you on the intercom can you tell me why I am walking in condoms and keys? THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING, I know you say that the suit is sealed, but I CAN SMELL SOMETHING DISGUSTING!

I am coming back in, I stepped in something and I have a formerly mentioned business I need to execute, pun very much intended BUZZ!

What do you mean that we have work to do out here? We don’t have anything to do here! It is working on its own, we are just been sent out here to watch mold grow or paint dry. This is fucking useless you piece… yeah, yeah… tone. Always with the tone. Sure let us have a reasonable conversation when it is you standing in 288 million metric ton of waste scattered over the eastern hemisphere of this FUCKING RETARDED MOON YOU PIECE OF SHIT!


Yes I will tone it down or misses log-rider will eventually start crying again. DO I HAVE TO MENTION WHERE I AM AGAIN? I do not care that I am cruel or misogynistic? WHAT? I have nothing against Jennifer nor her excessive crying for the last three weeks of this toilet voyage. I don’t hate women, I hate you ALL that is misanthropist you dumb-assed MOFO!

THEN COME OUT HERE AND JOIN ME IN SANDWICH JUNCTION BUZZ, I will make you a sandwich bitch! I will shove that disgusting piece of minced pig an arms-length into your large intestine, which I just stepped in. I will choke you with a keychain of smiling kittens here where I stand and dance on your soon to be poor contribution to this exclusive project of ruining a dwarf-planet faster than we ruin Earth One. I am happy to be a part of this wonderful race against time, KNEE DEEP IN FUCKING CRAP! BUZZ I NEED YOU OUT HERE, COME AND PLAY WITH ME AND THE KITTEN KEYCHAINS! THEY EVEN HAVE HAPPY BIRTHDAY WRITTEN ON THEM!

Blow it out your ass Buzz, you are wasting more air existing in there then I am out here yelling, prick. What is it you want me to do Buzz? What is that all important project or pathetic proportions you were dribbling about yesterday? Paleontology, pathetic, it is all the same dumb-ass.

Do you want me to go dig? Are you sure that you don’t want me to spelunk in the mountain of tossed furniture by sandwich junction? Or swim in that small lake of frozen liquid I am guessing has come from soda cans?

It is minus four hundred Fahrenheit right now Buzz, nothing is liquid, wait a few hours Callisto will pass the backside of Jupiter and you can go swim in “soon to be branded as the next best thing since cigarettes” lake. Take the family to a wonderful trip to Callisto, look at the sights of shit, waste and frozen crap neatly piled together with food, key chains and posters from the nineteen seventies!

We are not going to find anything Buzz. What the hell are you hoping to find in this environment. There is no signs of life out here. You can’t drop a dead cat into a pool of blood and hope it lives because you have most of the ingredients you need dumb-ass. Bacteria? Sure, let go to space and create new diseases we can’t contain or find the cure for. We haven’t still removed AIDS yet and you want to make space bacteria that will find new and creative ways to kill off humanity… you know what? Come out here Buzz, I have a job for your immune system. You don’t need a coat, the weather is great… dumb-ass.

So you want to throw fine words around like a scholar? Scholar my ass… I am perturbed by you, a malefactor if I ever knew one. Are you sure you aren’t a son of a corrupted scrapheap owner and are just in over your league?

So is your mom Buzz! I can say what I want since I lost interest in this project long ago. Yeah, yeah stop whining you dick, I will find your precious planet wiping bacteria so we can make sure that especially you won’t reproduce anymore.

Fucking hell, this is even more disgusting than kissing a dead grandmother on the mouth after she has been dug back up to make sure she was entirely dead after you ran her face over with a lawnmower thrice! The amount of semen from these condoms have made the entire place strangely paler than the rest. I know it has something to do with salt, but still… this is… nope… just nope.

I am out Buzz, go do this searching yourself, I can’t. I don’t want to look at it. Two hundred years of waste, it is a landscape of my nightmares Buzz and you sound like you have found El Dorado. It is junk and things that ought to have biodegraded hundreds of years ago.

I don’t know where to look Buzz, neither do you. Go find something you can show back home. I hate you, I hate everyone on this ship and I especially hate you Buzz, if you didn’t get it the first ten times? I found some rope here and I am going to hang out over by the mountain of furniture. Come see me if you want, I will be the one with a smile on the face. It should be easy to find me.

No I am not coming back to the ship, go fuck yourself, preferably outside without a suit you dipshit. You have been my bane for two years now and I have so many promises not to choke you because you are the only one who can land that elongated waste bin. They are landing in water when they get home so you are even more useless than I am Buzz. Leader or not you can shove this mission so far up your ass,that it can suck the nutrients from the sandwich I want to shove down your throat.

I know that I am low on everything from air to patience, but you don’t get it Buzz…

I know there is not enough gravity for it Buzz, but that won’t stop an entrepreneur with a passion. Isn’t that your catch phrase? See you all! …and especially you Buzz, I look forward to ride your face like a toboggan straight down the highway to hell!




Last month I failed to come up with anything.  That which was posted was blatant plagiarism.

Um… is it still plagiarism if you wrote it in the first place?  Ok… I wrote it.  But our esteemed editor, seeing my complete failure to post, ripped it from somewhere unmentionable and covered over my failing. (ooh-bleedin’-er!      (Ps.  Thanks Ed))

The reason for my failing?  I adopted a dog.

I think I may have mentioned (once or twice) that I volunteer at my local Dogs Trust re-homing center.

While I was there, our eyes met across an empty room.  He flew across the room and threw himself into my outstretched arms.  I just kinda sat there and got hit by dog.  But we got on extremely well, so I adopted him (that’s the short version.  I know, right?  SO unlike me).  Since he moved in I have been kinda busy and distracted.  So I missed last month.

And because I have done nothing other than making an ex-stray feel welcome and comfortable in my home and life, for the last couple of months…  That’s what yer gonna get.

His name is Dan.

DanI didn’t choose his name, but that is the name that he has had since he arrived at the Dogs Trust.  He recognised it and answered to it.  I felt that it would be rude to change it.  Hell…  How would you feel if, after introducing yourself, I started calling you Eric? (And Dan is not a bad name.  If he was called Count Fluffykins McSnuggles the Third, we may have had to rework things a bit).


I haven’t been up the Dogs Trust since Dan came to live with me (not cos I don’t want to). In fact I haven’t done much that wasn’t Dan related.  So this is gonna be a bit Dancentric.


I say ‘a bit’…


He came to live with me… um… a while ago. Has it been two weeks? Two months? Too long? And he’s settled in nicely. There were a few teething troubles. There still are. But he is a happy pup.

At first he decided the right place to go to the toilet was in the house. After all, he saw me going to the toilet in the bathroom. So he went as close to the bathroom as he could. We discussed this at length. Eventually we came to an understanding, he goes outside and I don’t get disgruntled with him going inside. This is fine while it’s warm and the door is always open. But it’s cooling down and getting rainy. And we haven’t yet worked out a method of him letting me know when he needs to go out. Accidents have happened since, but only on the doormat.

[Work in progress]

He’s a bit of a nervous bunny. I didn’t realise this at first, but he is a bravado filled scaredy cat. He’s fine when I’m there to protect him, but if I’m not… A number of times he has come belting into the living room and lept on my lap for comforting snuggles. When we went to investigate, it was only Charlie having a sniff around his garden next door or a hedgehog (oh yeah… I got hedgehogs in my garden 🙂 ). He also gets dead agitated when dogs have the audacity to walk down our street. After all, did they ask his permission? From his chair by the window, he properly chastises their impudence with growling and barking.

It’s a bit strange, cos when we meet other dogs when we are out on walks he is dead happy to meet them and always wants to go and say hello.

The biggest problem is that he doesn’t like to be left alone. I slowly built up the time he was left alone, from just going outside and having a fag to having a slow stroll around Tesco. He was fine. Very happy to see me when I get back, but other than this expected excitement… fine.

A couple of weeks ago I went down the pub for a bit. With travel time, I was out for a little over three hours. He was very excited and happy to see me when I got back. After ear scratching and belly rubs that are all part of the joyful return, I walked into the scene of devastation that was the living room. The list of what he destroyed was extensive. It ran from the trivial, to the close to my heart. I was royally pissed off.

Dan messA few days later I went to a gig (at the pub. I’m a fan of one of the bands, and I’d paid for it, so…). I kinda dog proofed the place, a bit, before I went out. When I got back… trashed. Dan and I discussed my dissatisfaction. He seemed to appreciate that I wasn’t overjoyed by his actions.

Today I had to drive over to Canterbury to get him more food (I’m feeding him the same stuff as he had at the DT, and Canterbury is where I can buy it). Yesterday we had a fantastic day, so while I was out I bought him two new toys. He was gonna get one anyway, as he has pretty much destroyed all the ones I… um… stole from the DT. But great day yesterday, so two. Got back… living room semi-trashed.

I feel Dan and I have a new project to work on.

[Work in progress x 2]

Also, I haven’t yet mentioned the fact that he does not respect my predilection for nocturnality. We have developed a routine. The alarm goes off at 8:30 and I get up and get him his breakfast. I then go back to bed. The alarm goes off again at 11:30 and I get up. At least that’s the plan.

For a few years my sleep pattern has steadily slipped around the clock. I’m awake for the normal amount of time, but sleep longer. So the going to bed and getting up migrates slowly. Mine does, Dan’s doesn’t.

The past few days I’ve still been awake when it gets light. When the first alarm goes off, a zombie that looks a bit like me goes and feeds Dan. That same zombie then struggles to get back to sleep for more than an extra hour before the second alarm goes off and a cute, happy, pup shaped bastard jumps on my chest. ‘This is when you get up, right?’

He is awfully spry.  So none of my bleary eyed punches have connected yet.  And the sweet, innocent him thinks it’s just a game.  If only he knew…

So far this all sounds pretty negative. So I hesitate to bring up his biteyness. When he gets excited he plays his favourite game. Biting me. It’s kinda my fault. I am used to ‘mouthing’, and know that dogs find it comforting and relaxing, so when Dan arrived I let him chew me (my hands and arms.  If you made up your own filthy chuckles…  Shame on you.  He’s less than 5 years old.  Shame!).  He, like other pups, got excited playing this game and started biting too hard. When, one morning, whilst having a wash I noticed that the backs of my hands and my forearms were covered in bruises (after a minute to work from ‘OMG I’M DYING!’ to ‘oh, it’s just Dan’) I decided we should stop this game. Dan doesn’t agree. He likes it. So when he gets excited he launches himself at any hand, foot, arm, leg, nose or ear that I am proffering. And his definition of proffering is ‘not using for any worthwhile task’. Worthwhile task being ‘letting me chew it’.

The trouble is that he is easily excited. He gets excited by many things. Here are a few examples… Me getting out of bed. Me putting on clothes. Me putting on shoes. Me getting up out of a chair. Me walking towards the room that the food is in and has a way to the outside. Me going outside. Me coming back inside. Me sitting there quietly if he feels that I haven’t paid enough attention to him recently. Me paying him attention. His new toy! (It squeaks when he chews it!!!!)

Also, me telling him to stop is obviously taking an active part in the game. Me taking an active part in the game is even more exciting. Me getting angry is the part of the game where he’s allowed to start barking.

So, yeah…

[Work in progress x 3]

But these are only my niggles. Admitted, some of my niggles are costly and others are painful. Pain I live with anyway. And who really gives a shit about books that my Gran left me?

What I haven’t yet touched upon is the absolute joy that he brings me. The fun that we have when out on walks. The smiles I get when I see his happy face and waggly tail. The warmth I feel when he snuggles up with me on the sofa and falls asleep in the crook of my arm with his head on my chest. The pride that I feel when overcomes his fear and greets a dog happily and then comes away when asked, or meets young children (who freak him out) but, after a bit of coaching to be quiet and gentle (both the kids and Dan), they get waggly tails and happy face licks (both the kids, and on one occasion Dan). And the love that I feel and receive every day.


Best thing I have ever done.


By the way… Dan LOVES his new toy (the other new one is hidden for now)

Dan toy

Epilogue – Dan met Eric tonight.  Eric is a rather large spider that lives under my fireplace.  For years he has scuttled out across the floor in the dead of night to do scuttly things.  They haven’t met before.  Dan was entranced.  Eric did not appear overly enamored.  Dan’s affection starts with noses and soon leads to paws.  He isn’t known for his delicate touch.  I don’t think my home has an Eric any more.