The Good Old Days

Do you ever find yourself longing for times past? The good old days. Before children swore or thought about sex. When pop music used to make sense and wasn’t just a stream of offensive misogyny. When everyone ate dinner round the table together, and kids played happily in the street without predators lurking around every corner. A time before violence, terrorists, and harmful videos poisoning the minds of the young. When are we talking about here? The 80s? No, I am talking about a few months

Because it's fucking shit in Hull

I wrote this piece a while ago and have been sitting on it, unsure whether or not to post. But I have decided that the point of this blog is to start debates, so I thought I would put it up anyway. I think it is worthy of including and raises some interesting points, although I am worried about how I come across, so be kind. The Pyjama Club I live in a small hamlet in the Nottinghamshire countryside and the closest shop is in a slightly rough part of the nearby town. It is not quite as

The Magical Adventures of Mr Faecalbulk Part 2

A quick note before we start – to help decode the increasingly complex multi-voiced nature of Angry Chef posts, comments from Captain Science will be annotated with the initials CS, comments from Evidence Warrior with an EW, and comments from my strange inner voice will be left as they were, in bold with no annotation. Hopefully this will avoid any confusions. I really doubt that. Well, any confusion about the different voices anyway. We’ll see. So, at long last, it’s time for… The Magical