Things

'We all have our weak spots'

My prodigal sister is coming home for a couple of days. She has a sweet tooth. Anyway, my mum turned to me today and asked if I wanted to try making some palaver.

Me: Zuh?
Mum: I think you should try it.
Me: ...To make a palaver? What?
Mum: You know, that pudding she likes!
Me: ...
Mum: The Greek one!
Me: ...Baklava?
Mum: Yes! Palaver!

She's been outdoing herself lately. We were in a (busy) food market a couple of weeks back when she shouted from a fair way away: 'Becky, check whether they have any Gaddafis!'

She meant gefilte fish.

Mum Glossary

Grating: gratin

Gaddafis: gefilte fish

Pinochets: pimiento - she asked for some pinochets in a South American restaurant. I am not kidding.

Palaver: baklava

She also is convinced that Celine Dion is Selon Delon. It's kind of cute, except when the dictators come into play. I don't get where the connection is in her mind between dictators and food. It's rather troubling. I await the day she asks me for some ceasescu nuts.


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Pour encourager les autres

I had a dream last night where I had this book where Robespierre had to try and convince Louis XVI that to stave off revolution, he just had to give in to a night of hot slash. Can he convince him?

I remembered it when I was in the shower this morning and was all, 'that is awesome! I have to read this book!' and then I realised it doesn't actually exist. Boo. But I bet there's a fic out there. Yay!


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Eurovision tonight!

Ridiculously excited, tbh. We'll have a scoring party and snacks and drinks and pretend to be outraged when Britain gets three points in total and Cyprus awards Greece 12 points, even if their song is just someone eating a cat.

It's trashy, politically-motivated and embarrassing. And I love every second of it. Come on, Jedward!