Chatterbox, blabbermouth, busybody, confabulator, clack, gossip, magpie, windbag, circulator, flibbertigibbet, gossipmonger, informer, newsmonger, parrot, discourser, prattler, babbler, scandalizer, talebearer, conversationalist . . .

Although all of these words are accurate, I like to think of myself as more of a sharer of wild tales, a storyteller illustrating the events passed and present, of hillarious stories and incessent ramblings. When in all seriousness I am just someone who doesnt know when to stop talking, a constant noise in the background, the chatter of meaningless random words playing in the corner . . . the person you try and block out when you're head is pounding and you just want SILENCE!

However for a select few out there I am entertaining to some degree, so if you're up for a bit of a giggle, the latest slice of juicy gossip or some mind numbing drivel, grab you're cuppa, put you're feet up, and join in on the gab, you're more than welcome!

- Ash


Tuesday 22 May 2012

Curse of the Moldy Jam

So Im at work this morning, setting up the restaurant like a good little peach'ster and my stomach decides that it wants to initiate the next world war on the rest of my body.

Next thing I knew Nicky walked around the corner holding a hot crusty golden loaf of bread ~ fresh from the oven . . . . it was like the heavens opened and Grilled Cheesus sent down his angels of nom noms to gift me with the pleasures of a happy belly.

Nic proceeded to cut us a slice each for breakfast when her face lit up . . .

"Oh yeah! We have some Jaaaaaammmm in the cupboard"

With a surge of excitement she flung open the cupboard doors and whooped out our beloved jar of strawberry jam . . . the same humble jar that has brought sweet sweet joy to many a staff member sneaking bread from the waiters station over the years @ The One Elm

Delicious slices on our plates, buttered and at the ready, I unscrewed the lid, in preparation to unleash the fruity, sweet awesomeness, then I looked down . . . . . . .

Low and behold, our prized pot of sugary gold now contained moldy old jam - good for absolutely nothing and definitely not being spread on my gorgeous slice of bread!

Hearts broken, souls crushed, we accepted defeat and prepared ourselves for a mediocre and plainly average breakfast.

With a sudden strike of faith in the mighty Grilled Cheesus'  I suddenly remembered a secondary jar of jam that had mysteriously appeared in the kitchen several weeks back!

- Could it be? Could this jar be our breakfast savior?! -

within seconds I was back to square one, knife at the ready, new jam jar in hand, the apprehension building, the excitement - palpable!

The lid comes off, and I slowly peer down into the jar

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FREAKING KIDDING ME!!!"

What are the chances? To my absolute horror, yet again it was not just jam staring back at me from the jar below . . . it was also a small city of mold, a hub of activity, a fluffy little civilization with its heart set on making sure that my delicious fruity breakfast has been completely ruined.

I look up at Nikki, despair and desperation spread across my pale and tired little face. . . . Breakfast - No wait - MY WHOLE DAY had officially been stamped 'SHITEHOUSE'

from this point forward, this day continued to prove to me the magnitude of its SUCKS BALLS factor ~ This, my friends, is known as The Curse of the Moldy Jam

Why is it that some days there is bound to be just ONE little thing that is destined to screw up the whole day's plan of events?!

Its a crime against humanity to screw with someones breakfast . . . breakfast is the pinnacle of ones day, if it doesn't go smoothly its a known fact that everything that happens from that moment onwards is going to be an epic fail - in fact, im sure that I read in a newspaper somewhere that its been proven that people who dont eat breakfast generally just SUCK at life!



All I have to say is . . . . Tomorrow, when I unscrew that damn jam lid, there better be some healthy looking, sweet as candy, IN DATE and delicious strawberry Jam waiting for me to spread all over my morning slice . . . . otherwise HEADS WILL ROLL

Enjoy your day people, and please, for the sake of the children, steer clear of The Curse of the Moldy Jam
 

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