Advice: Do Not Eat Oysters

Friday 15th July 2016
6.30pm

Oysters. Never again.

I'm all for trying new food and delicacies. I've always been led to believe that delicacies meant delicious, unusual foods from a different culture or country and until today I believed correctly!

Oysters do not deserve to be called a delicacy. They are not delicious- they are the food of the sea devil and are there to trick you like evil mermaids.

Let me set the horror scene:
Our platter of 12 oysters arrives on a beautiful bed of salad leaves in varying shades of green, accented with the odd purple leaf and really setting off the shimmering texture of the oyster shells. I think to myself- 'oooh, pretty oysters! This would be a nice dish to have on a more regular basis- its so sophisticated!'

I watch with intent as my friends tuck in, like pros, and suck their oysters from their shells with expertise and ease. Then its my turn.

Im instructed to loosen the oyster from the shell with a spoon- first hurdle- and I'm sprayed by lemon water. I realise that this may be harder than it looks.

After minutes of prodding and scraping - I'm all set to go! I slowly raise the oyster to my mouth, excited to try something new, then gently start to tip it onto my tongue. At this moment I thought it was a but of an odd feeling and taste. Once I had committed to the oyster,  I realise it was an awful decision and one I couldn't take back! IT WAS RANK!!

Why do people enjoy these? I tasted like I'd licked the sea's belly button after a lemon body wash bath!!

I won't be eating these again!

Peace out, A town

Stepping in dog poo is not lucky

Thursday 23rd February 2017

My work mates insistence that stepping in dog poo is lucky is a lie.

Monday morning, being the calamity that I am, I dramatically skidded along the pavement on dog or human poo. Since then I have had nothing but bad luck!

My Monday morning had started well- I made my train on time, no delays, got a seat, tube was quiet and then it's been downhill from there... One minute I was emailing on my phone- the next I was a flailing mess as I tried to not drop to the ground in a heap of faeces!!

The trainers came off and were wrapped in newspaper, put in a box and tied up in a bag until I had time to deal with them (it's Thursday and they are still wrapped up because I can't face the task of bleaching them clean!)

Tuesday- I smashed a mirror. We all know that supposedly gives you 7 years bad luck... So far it is most certainly true!

Wednesday gave me delays on the trains- pretty normally but I'm convinced it's because of poo and broken mirrors!

Now Thursday.

StormDoris is definitely on the bad luck bandwagon!! I thought I'd managed to shake the jinx when I got my train on time and got a seat...until I reached St Albans and Doris, the windy cow, had blown the overhead lines on the tracks and ruined everyone's commute.

Trying to make my way to Hatfield for another train line, I hit the good luck jackpot when an angel (Lynsey) offered myself and another Un/lucky commuter, aka Jenny, a lift to Hatfield... 3 hours later- I arrived at work.

Is this the start of 7 years bad luck?? Only time will tell...

Peace out, A town