What More Can Poor Boy Do?
... when the boss orders in pizza for lunch in the office as we have a bunch of Iraqis in for training. And they can't eat them cause of all the ham and shellfish and non-Halal toppings.
You just have to pitch in and help right? Despite 30 seconds before having said: "I am going to be strong and resist this!" Despite that, you just HAVE to help them get rid of all the chicken satay, seafood, Hawaiian and pepperoni pizzas, not to mention the spicy chicken wings.
You just HAVE to, right?
As punishment for my sins, I made sure I went swimming tonight. 600m.
That is as about as much as I can manage. I am getting a sore elbow. Tennis elbow, the pronator tendon insertion site, just under the bulky muscle you see when you look down at your elbow as you type. Not from tennis, but from blogging, I think. Or wanking. I'll scan it tomorrow. Ultrasound is excellent for musculo-skeletal injuries, even better than MRI in quite a few problems.
Dinner tonight was that excellent fat/oil delivery medium, the chicken schnitzel. Bloody beautiful. I used a whole chicken breast, two schnitzels. I didn't eat one and will take it with me to work tomorrow with the leftover half of an avacado from the salad. I'll grab a crusty bread roll from the Dutch Bakery in Harbourfront and make a sandwich for lunch.
An issue in Asia. The only decent bread is in Vietnam, I reckon. And the Dutch bakery in Harbourfront.
This BreadTalk crap is soft, flabby pulp for people with such atrocious teeth they are afraid of chewing as one of their last remaining, smoke-yellowed, black-caried, never-brushed mandibular tombstones might get sucked out in the process. Yes that'd be the majority of Asians who as a rule couldn't give a flying fuck about their dentition.
When negotiating (ha!) my previous role in a VERY LARGE WORLD CORPORATION in Hong Kong, I asked about their Dental Plan. The HR person went: "What? Dental plan? No, we don't have a Dental Plan. Why would you...? Ah, that's right you Western people worry about your teeth." She smiled her smoke-yellowed, black-caried, never-brushed smile at me as if to say, who gives a fuck about teeth?
In contrast to the bland pap in BreadTalk, a decent loaf or bread roll is something that once you get your teeth into, you can't get them out again without an effort. The crust is -- well, crusty, so much so it tear great gashes in your gums. And chewy? After two rolls, your masseters ache from the effort, you can't talk - a perfect workout. Yeah, the bread inside is thick and yet light, airy without being full of holes (it's called yeast, people! Use it with disgression!)
Oh man, what wouldn't I give for a regular supply of that apotheosis of bread, the Continental Rolls from the Hughes St Bakery (not sure how to link the GoogleEarth co-ordinates, can anyone help?) in Manifold Heights, Geelong, Victoria, Australia. The displaced heart of the Croatian bread industry. If there's one thing we do well in Geelong, it's wog food.
I used to work with wife of the baker there, until he died. Then, not long after she died too. A lovely person who was very sympathetic with me and supportive during my marriage break-up. She suffered with severe exophthalmos from over-treatment of her thyroid disfunction [dis- means abnormal, dys- means painful], which unfortunately alienated her from a lot of people. She couldn't wear glasses, her eyes touched the lenses. (Hint: "In the Tibetan philosophy, Sylvia Plath sense of the word, I know we're all, we're all dying, right?") Her hubby made kick-arse hot-cross buns every Easter as well.
But they were good Aussies through and through; from Simpson, Western District of Victoria,near the 12 Apostles, near Colac. And man, for an Aussie, he made a bread rolls like a real wog!
And bigotry, did I mention we we do bigotry well too?
If multiculturalism *doesn't* mean a different ethnic restaurant or grocer or baker on every corner, then what the fuck good is it?