My mental health was so up and down at this point, with many internal struggles, wrongly medicated, and spiraling at times daily. Somehow, I pulled this one out of the fire. Warrigal’s picture is superb and this story has many funny lines. This is one of my favourite lines ever “Oh, sorry! Okay so she’s a drug smuggler and is in jail in Barley which is an island in Donesia. Donesia is rated the most corrupt country in the world just above Australia.” The double meaning to me is priceless. Hope you enjoy this revisit. If you have time, read some of the comments, fantastic.
Story by the Great Hung One On – Digital Mischief by Warrigal Mirriyuula
Hi. Sandy O’Way here. You know the good father from the St Generic Brand parish, around the corner and down the street from the Pigs Arms. Well the Bish, you know Bishop Bishop, wants me to get Shappy Corebee out of jail. Apparently Shappy got caught smuggling thugs into Barley as the local thugs aren’t strong enough and that’s why they need Australian thugs and let face we have plenty of thugs in Australia.
[Stop. Cut. Cease. Hung here. Look Sandy you idiot it’s drugs not thugs, now get on with it and stop being silly]
Oh, sorry! Okay so she’s a drug smuggler and is in jail in Barley which is an island in Donesia. Donesia is rated the most corrupt country in the world just above Australia. The Barlenese don’t want…
This is an A Camel. Please don’t mix the two together.
B Camel Sauce. By Mark.
Now I know you are totally fascinated at this stage about B Camel sauce. Well, let me un-fascinate you. This post has 660 words and takes 3 minutes to read. It’s actually Bechamel sauce but our family joke was to refer to it as B Camel sauce. I found this in a Greek cookbook eons ago and have followed it ever since.
This is an incredibly simple way to make a white or cheese sauce that can be used in a myriad of recipes, tuna bake, potato bake, lasagne, etc.
The sauce can be flavoured but let’s do that at the end. The simple rule is the number two.
Ingredients.
Oil
Flour
Milk
Cheese
Method.
In a saucepan(can you see where this is heading) add two tablespoons of oil. Now I use olive as that was my mum’s name, but you use whatever you like. Olive oil adds to the flavour as I rarely add seasoning. Salt is bad for your heart whereas cracked pepper will give you lots of small black dots in the finished product.
Now add two tablespoons of flour. Any kind, plain, self-raising, just flour.
Get a wooden spoon and blend together the oil and flour. On low heat watch the reaction in the saucepan till you see the mix, which is referred to as a roux, bubble. Cook for two minutes constantly stirring. Don’t let it brown. If you do, throw it out and start again.
After two minutes add two cups of milk, of any kind. The first will sizzle a bit so give it a good stir and then add the second cup. Keep the heat low. This is crucial to the final sauce.
Keep stirring the sauce. Don’t let it get too hot. When it starts to thicken, add two handfuls of grated cheese.
After you add the cheese, turn the heat off. However, you still will need to keep stirring the sauce as you need to reduce the heat in the sauce. Can take ten minutes or more. If you let it overheat, the sauce will “crust” on the bottom of the pan and will affect the final outcome.
Cool. Cool man. No, not really, just let the sauce cool before you transfer it to the next stage. Reason: You need to know what level of the thickness(hydration) of your sauce became. Too thin, needs a longer cooking time in the end product, i.e., evaporation. Too thick, add more milk or cream to get to your desired goal. Now when adding liquid to anything, do it in small steps, slowly. Reducing liquid in a sauce is at best painful and takes a long time. Food technology states that 80% of the fluid in a meal evaporates after 20% of the cooking time. The last 20% takes 80% of the cooking time. Tomatoes are the best example.
I use little seasoning but use the natural flavours of the oil and cheese to get it a good taste. That for me means, good olive oil and extra tasty cheese.
Okay, so this is how I use it.
Tuna casserole: Pasta al dente, with sauteed garlic, shallot, and corn, then tinned tuna. Mix with B Camel sauce, and bake with topped cheese, breadcrumbs and butter.
Potato bake: Sliced spuds, B camel sauce, bake or microwave.
Lasange: Follow any recipe on the planet. A white/cheese sauce is needed.
Eggplant Parmigiana: Sautee eggplant. Top with a tomato sauce, B Camel sauce and extra grated cheese. Bake. I make my tomato sauce like this, saute shallots, and garlic in a little butter, on low heat. Add tomatoes and then tomato paste. Let it reduce then add a dash of red wine and some chopped anchovies. Mix in the pan. You want it spreadable. Season with cracked black pepper.
These are just my ideas. Use how you like but remember the formula, 2 tbs oil, 2 tbs flour, fry for 2 minutes, 2 cups of milk, 2 handfuls of cheese. The start to finish time is around 15 to 20 minutes. Keep stirring pretty well all the time and never let the sauce get too hot. Keep the heat on low. Enjoy.
Hey, me here, you know that bloke that fades in and out like a late-night radio broadcast. Anyway, I need to make a confession. Yes, I,m a sinner, oops, no, I ended up joining facebook after years of pressure from my family. See, they wanted me to see photos of their meals and their trips to the Snowy. Personally, I cared little, so I actually linked a few Pigs Arms articles to FB and got 2 likes. My nephew thinks Foodge and Father O’Way are hysterical and a total stranger liked it with a thumbs up. My nephew who has a PhD in neuroscience has to explain Foodge and FOW to his parents. This tells me a lot about Darwinism.
Now, I fucking hate this new text editor from WordPress. WordPress is the engine that runs the Pigs Arms website. The new editor wants you to be a coding guru, which funnily enough, I used t write computer programs. Now, I hate it. If you are familiar with drag and drop, well, that’s where I’m at. The little side pictures and wrapped text are a thing of the past. I’m sure it’s achievable but I can’t be bothered achieving it. You know the old saying, lots of effort for very little outcome.
On to Neil Young. Boy, do I have some mixed feelings. Visit this web page for lots of great articles about 60’s, 70’s music, and beyond. Neil Sambrook has a great skill at filling in some gaps in, well my, music knowledge. Neil is a fantastic music journalist.
SAMTIMONIOUS.com
Now, my favourite Neil Young album is “After the Gold Rush”. Mainly because of circumstances. I originally was exposed to “Harvest” and CSNY thanks to my big brother. I loved Harvest however over time I loved Gold Rush better. In Neils’s article here, he rates “On the Beach” as better”, If you choose, feel free to let me know. I respect all of your opinions.
On the Beach.
After the Goldrush
Harvest
Harvest Moon
Listen to them if you want. It’s up to you. These are my favourite Neil Young albums. The rest, well, I can give or take.’
Signing off as Mark, Sandy, Hoo, Father O’Way, Gorden O’Donnell, Merv. Mervette and so on. Enjoy. 🙂
These two Indian style dishes will blow your socks off ! Not with their heat but by their luxurious taste and appearance.
Ideal for dinner party for six when you want to do something different and can plan ahead.
—ooo—
RAAN (leg of lamb dish)
Remember if you want to have this for dinner on Saturday night you need to do all this preparation on the Thursday.
Take one good size leg of lamb and trim off all excess fat.
Prick the leg of lamb all over with a skewer. With a sharp knife make several deep gashes in the flesh. Put leg into the pan in which you will be roasting it.
Foodge’s nightmares continued unabated. Every night, between three and four Granny would be woken by his thrashing and groaning. It was always the same dream; Foodge’s disembodied head in a box. Every time Granny gleaned little bits of additional information before Foodge slipped back to a slumber punctuated by snores, coughs, obstructive episodes and loud farts. Sometimes Foodge replied in Spanish. Occasionally he’d stand up and try to micturate behind the tall boy. One time he was as randy as all hell, but every time he had no memory the next morning. Granny spent the hours between Foodge’s dream and dawn pondering the meaning of these dreams.
……………………………………………….
Foodge has a dream…
Foodge has experienced a reasonable day, that is, until Father O’Way arrived in a pretty summer dress with his hair tumbling over his shoulders and his old navy tattoos on display for…
Took me a while but found this. This episode became the cornerstone for heaps of stories on the PA’s and it’s thanks to its creator Emmjay. What happened over time was a unique situation where other writers took the original characters on a different path than Emmjay might have ever suspected. Sandshoe and I discussed this at length many years ago. We both agreed that it may be a world first. HOO knows :). BTW I see this was reposted in 2015 and was created in 2009. Wow, amazing.
I could sense the sickly smell of blood. My hand was in a wet pool. Too soon to open the eyes.
A small panel beater was hammering out the dents on the inside of my eyeballs and my mouth felt like a camel train had camped there overnight.
Whatever was out there on the other side of my eyelids was going to have to wait until the hammering eased up a little.
But the headache was not the main problem. Beyond the headache, the right cheek of my arse was screaming louder than my head. I decided to feel it. Mistake. It was wet. It was wet with my blood.
I had taken one in the backside for the good guys.
But there was no wound. There was a welt though. I could feel that well enough. I crawled across the threadbare Axminster into…
Algernon often produces a real gem with his lists of music, this is one of them. I hadn’t heard this album before, only the hit, and I was really impressed. Joni Mitchell, Carole King, and Dusty Springfield are usually in my top ten but I do really like this one. Out of the modern stuff, Nelly Furtado is the standout along with maybe Adele, the rest are boring and repetitive in my view Hope you all enjoy it again.
The Delta Sweete was the second album released by Bobbie Gentry in 1968 after her debut album Ode to Billie Joe, commercially it wasn’t that successful but beautifully produced none the less. Indie Band, Mercury Rev have reimaged this album releasing The Delta Sweete Revisited, in collaboration with several female artists. The album was released this week.
This is close to one of my favourites. It came from when Tutu and I went out for a coffee and when served I was asked if I wanted a mug. That was the spark and it reminded me of when we would go to the SCG from the Gong to watch test cricket. Someone in the crowd would inevitably call out, have a go ya mug. How the rest of the story developed is beyond me.
Oh what a glorious day, hmm, the sun has risen, well about 6 hours ago and life is under way in it’s usual manner. Merv rises from the love tub and saunters into the front bar.
“Granny, I want a mug from now on” orders Merv.
“Fark ewe, they is two ex-pensive” replies Granny.
“Well how ex-pensive are they?”
“Well think of ex-pensive then add a shit load more. I’ll take you down to the mug shop, I’m sure you have been there before” continues Granny.
So off they trod down the road and around the corner to the Mug Shop. Merv immediately realises that he has been coming here well, is your whole life a lot?
Granny takes Merv to the mug counter. Please take a ticket the sign says so Granny retrieves one.
The ticket says Thank you. You have been countered…
Hi all, Mark here. I want to start remembering some stories from the vault that we all went through over the years. Mostly fun but at times we fell out with each other for varying reasons. Me, the only one banned 3 times. Hilarious.
When I started blogging at the ABC I was traveling okay but then moving to the Pigs Arms I had many problems. Health, alcohol, pot, and work-a-holic, 60hrs pw plus. I survived and lots of the stuff I wrote as Father O’Way was on my up cycle, i.e., I’m Bi-Polar but fall into the hardest category to diagnose being depression plus hypomania. I am no longer ashamed of this. I accept my disability and take medication that helps me overcome this. I do falterer from time to time as Ace(Algernon) knows.
About my writing style. I aimed for stupid. I was once compared to Spike Milligan. Wow, what an honour. Mike Jones asked me to run with a couple of characters in the early days of the Pigs Arms, one of which was Father O’Way. I picked FOW as I had endured a catholic school education which I absolutely hated, this was time for revenge, a priest that didn’t believe in God. Leading to Gordon O’Donnell, the creator of the universe. Interestingly, I had created Gordon at a Christmas party with my family decades before.
Anything inside brackets is meant to be a dialogue between the character and the author. I thought this was unique at the time however Mrs. Browns Boys does similar. I’m uncertain that I was influenced by Brendan O’Carroll as I had never watched the show.
Surprisingly, some of the sentences I wrote that absolutely cracked me up still amuse me and make me wonder if they did for you. This makes me laugh still. Here’s some examples in the link below,
“Sister Horribleness …” Anyone that went to a catholic school had one or more of these.
“Don’t wanna type too loud here just in case the old bat can still hear.”
“Yes, your Excellency,” I say beauteously.
Bishop Bent picked up the bill which was paid for by attendees of the church, unbelievable people in my view. You know, you would almost think this was fiction. Veri Bent to me was very poignant.
“Meet to glad you”
Anyway, here’s the link. I won’t try a re-post as I can’t supply all of the cute photos. Enjoy.
I finally made it into another episode says Mother O’Way…
Nothing to do with the story but nice to look at…
By Big M.
“Yer goin’ where?” Granny pointed a gnarled finger in Foodge’s face.
“Lunn Donne.” Foodge retorted.
“Lunn Fucking Donne!”
“No, London England.” Foodge wasn’t comfortable with this sort of swearing before lunch, or at least before a few beverages.
“London Fucking England!”
“No, just London in England. I don’t think London copulates with England.”
“Don’t get smart with me, Boyoh!”
“I’m not being smart, or even half smart.” Foodge replied, which was true, Foodge was neither smart nor half smart. Half measures worried Foodge. One could be a wit, which was thought to be a great thing, whereas a half-wit was a pejorative word for idiot. Describing someone as smart was high praise, but half smart implied cheekiness, not half wittery.
Trotters Ale cures all ills…
Emmjay, Hung and M hadn’t accounted for Granny’s reaction when they’d decided to send Foodge to Britain to be Special Envoy, or Chief Photographer or whatever the fuck they’d planned.
“Well, it’s by special request, from…you know, certain people, well connected people.” This wasn’t completely true, but the invite involved a firm of solicitors.
“Special Fucking People! Royal Fucking People. What about our relationship?” Granny had let go of her aggressive tone and had moved into the looking crest fallen, just about to cry stage of the argument.
Foodge started to panic. Are we going to have a long chat about our relationship? Is she going to expect me to talk about my feelings? He suddenly realised that Granny couldn’t have a passport because she’d never travelled further than Milson’s Point. “Granny, I may have failed to convey all of the, err, ah, implications of the invitation, I mean, as my, err, partner, I mean, love of my life, you are, um, my plus one, my, other half…”
“Oh, Foodge, that’s a different matter.” Granny was suddenly coquettish. “When’s this trip takin’ place?”
“Soon, my love, very soon.” Foodge’s voice had taken on a soothing quality. “It may be difficult to organise during the Lock Down, but there are always strings that one can pull.”
Just the two of us…
“Oh, goody, I’ll have to get all new underwear and nighties. Shoes..no, leave room for purchases. I guess I can always use the empty space in Foodge’s port. Oh, and I better get my passport out of the safe…”
“Passport?” Foodge gulped and had become noticeably pale. “Won’t it need to be renewed?”
“No, I’ve always kept it up to date, just in case. Don’t you?”
Foodge thought for a second. His passport did need renewal. He was well and truly hoisted by his own petard. Granny had already raced up to her room. Merv’s disgusting visage suddenly appeared across the bar. “Sounds like you need a drink, old son.”
Make it a double!” Foodge collapsed onto a stool. “You won’t believe what I’ve done.”
“I do believe what you’ve done, you was ‘opin’ that Granny wouldn’t have a passport an’ you’d get away to the Old Dart for an ‘olidee.” Merv was already sounding like a Cockney Publican.
“Was it that obvious?”
“I don’t think she knew, but you was ‘oisted by yer own petard.” Merv was unaware that the narrator had just said that on account of him not being part of the last scene.
“What will I do?” Read a few lines ahead sounds good.
“Well, aside from killing yerself…”Merv was already pushing a second canoe across the filthy, stained bar. “Nah, only jokin”, I reckon you’ll ‘ave a hard time getting’ outta the country at the moment, plus the Poms won’t be real welcomin’.”
“No, Mr Merv, it’s official business, you know, top people involved, movers and shakers.” Foodge drained the second pint of Trotters Best. “ This will involve intelligence, planning and courage.” All three were on short supply at the Pigs Arms. “There is one urgent matter to attend.”
Nazi Goering 
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
