London fish and chips

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My friend Faz will be happy to know that I bought some fish and chips on Monday 11 October 2010.  It is a historic date because I was down in the dumps for a variety of reasons.  My database was corrupted and l lost all September files and some for the first week of October.  I spend the early part of the day on-line trying to figure out how it happened.  There was so much technical information my mind got corrupted from not being able to find a reason or a solution.

I got into the car and drove to the laboratory to develop some film.  I had no way of knowing that drivers were on the ‘drive Nonqaba off the road’ campaign.  It was too much.  I bought some fish and chips.  I cannot afford to go to a health spa for a massage, so I decided on a fry-up. 

Faz will be happy because she doesn’t like Sweetness Food, which is part of the Sweetness website I developed for my book Sweetness.  She doesn’t like the idea of using low fat margarine for all the recipes.  She loves butter and the good old ghee.  She’s like Austin Clarke in his book Love and Sweet Food where he has a respect for pork and cooking with lard.

I did not enjoy my fish and chips wrapped in a newspaper because I started comparing them to the fish and chips I had in the United Kingdom when I was a student.  What used to be nice during days in London was that nobody mentioned the word ‘calories’ on a Friday evening. 

There’s nothing I miss in London really except London Underground buskers, the Nottinghill Carnival and fish and chips on a Friday evening.  I was never a fan of the Queen, Prince Phillip, Charles, Diana, the potential king and the back-up, in fact  the whole royal family because of the pillage of First Nations of Africa, North America, China, India, Australia and New Zealand, the Falklands, hey the whole world.

 And what’s up with Tutankhamun and the whole Egyptian mummies?  What was the point of being buried in such an elaborate manner if the British come up and strip Egyptian kings naked and put them on display in London? 

Why not strip Charles the 4th or is it 10th and put his naked body on display?  The British Museum could do even better, put Prince Charles’ grandfather’s naked body under a glass.  Why did the British regard themselves as proper human beings and us the colonised, animals?

Don’t get me started on the British and their civilising ways.  Civilising my foot!  I do miss the fish and chips though. 

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