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| Blogs > Fallic40 > Seeing Red ....... |
My Mate - Marmite
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My Mate - Marmite Mood: really fuckin' hung over This weekend was “Manly Man” weekend as ordained by the Very Reverand Travelling (in Texas, no less). Brother Travelling preached the need for beer drinking, profanity, obnoxious effluvia and abstinence of sins of the flesh (unless strippers were involved). In other words we were to root in our troughs like pigs. And since I already had a manly weekend planned out at a private gathering of other manly minded individuals, St. George Clooney’s day could be celebrated in a manner befitting our new Patron Saint. It was the annual Couchman Triathlon: a celebration of manly pursuits suited to those who have exited athletic endeavor and entered a new world where finding the remote leaves them breathless and needing oxygen. We play darts, snooker and cribbage. These are not sports. A sport is only a sport if you can pull a hamstring. (This way baseball qualifies as a sport.) And as a porthole into the world of pub athletics, we had a breakfast. (Jay ‒ would you please skip to the next paragraph.) There were fried egg sandwiches, bacon (and more bacon) sausage, kippers, black pudding, and Heinze baked beans all served up in an orange, brown and yellow quagmire of artery clogging culinary excellence. We drank Guiness to wash it on down. But most important of all, and this is aimed at Reverand Trav, we had Marmite. This is a British staple and I have it on my toast soldiers when I have eggs. It is yeast extract. It is a by-product of the brewing industry and generations of iron headed, heavy fisted, head butting, train demolishing, beer swilling hooligans were raised on it. There are rumors that in some areas of the UK, it is spread on the nipples by mothers when giving baby boys the tit. It makes Manly Men. My ’s boyfriend ran screaming from the room when I gave him a Marmite jar to sniff when he was visiting with her last week. He will not be a Manly Man. The taste is savory. It is savory in the same way that earwax is savory. It is an acquired taste. But if you have the Manly genes, then there is a Marmite sequence in your DNA. If you do not have this then, yes, you are genetically inferior and will probably spend life in an office rather than in an outdoor profession such as ditch digger or brick layer. And so fortified with Marmite, I took my place at the draw to see who I would be starting off against in the snooker. I did will until my fifth match when I had to play my best friend. He is a really good player and well, I think that he has an unfair advantage having something long and round in his hand since he is gayer than George Michael (and if only he had been stoned out of his mind like Georgie Porgie). I lost my frame against him and then lost the next three frames to other players so I ended up 5 -4 in the snooker. I got the girl behind the bar to whip me up another bit of toast and marmite for the darts since I had to take a pain pill for my back. It seems that when I went to see Matisyahu in concert recently, I threw my back out. It was another secret plan by my mate since he got the tickets (no, Safira, it was not a date ‒ no matter what you say) and got me to go with him. I found out that bouncing like Tigger for two hours in an almost rapturous state of reggae induced ecstasy really does a number on the lower back. Usually I can hit the 20 with at least two of my three darts after a beer or two or three or four. I was even strong on the doubles to start and finish. I started off by winning 4 of my first 5 games. But then I ran up against a darts professional. He was one those individual with his own darts shirt complete with his one syllable name over the pocket. He had the correct tattoos on his forearms and Union Jack flights on his darts. Once again I started to slide and finished up 6 - 3 for the darts and in 8th place after two events, To be honest, I was on pints eight through ten in the cribbage and so my card playing was not exactly up to my usual standard. I ended up coming in 12th out of 32 participants. I will have to try harder next year. I stayed over at another mate’s last night. His wife is used to and treats the sofa denizens with a sense of humor when we inevitably awake the next morning and, cursing God, fall off onto the floor. Her hangover cure is a teaspoon of Marmite in a cup of boiling water. Pretty damn effective to be sure. And so Manly Man weekend is over for the year; there are beer fart stains in the underwear to be removed with bleach, there is that awful taste of beer puke in my mouth (or it could be the Marmite), and I have eyes that look more like button holes right now. And like Christmas, the costs will take some time to manifest themselves (I think I put several rounds on my credit card). But then again, when I was reading blogs the other day, someone had the most wonderful brainstorm of a holiday in March for men called Steak and Blowjob Day ‒ a most excellent idea. Of course my gay buddy looked all confused when I mentioned that and said “but sweetie, isn’t that everyday?”  |
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Ahhhhhh!!! The joys of being a manly man... You are just too funny....  kind thoughts, Moonfire
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moonfire, let me tell you, I still am not feeling especially manly yet. Now it's off to the kitchen for some toast and Marmite.
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Lips, even laughing is too painful right now. Fortunately, after checking around, it seems that pretty much the entire crew is feeling like this - even the guys who are professional piss-artists.
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Fecking manly man ... I'll give you what-for. (Was that a good rendition of your Gran?) Love you!  This is my blog - [blog _Safira]. There are many like it, but this one is mine. RECOMMENDED READING: A F F The Only Site For Me
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3/6/2006 2:18 pm |
Great post as always my man but let me get something straight here... You had a guys weekend During said weekend you play a game (snooker) where you hold a long cylindrical object in your hand and use it to move balls around by making a "sliding back and forth" motion. You do this while bending over in front of your gay friend Shortly thereafter you sit around and play cribbage...let me repeat for those not paying attention. I didn't say poker I said CRIBBAGE. What the hell All this time you're whining about your sore back that you hurt while at a concert with your buddy (yeah..as if it wasn't a date) I also know you like Abba and Duran Duran Now, if you think that eating some nasty British Condament will compensate these actions and make you a "Manly Man" I think you're very sadly mistaken All things aside though, great post. I litterally laughed out loud
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what, Marmite is more than a condiment. It is a way of life. It puts hair on your chest, as my gran would say. Crib is the english pub card game of choice. Poker has only just begun to catch on in the UK. However it is not an easy game to play when you are pissed as a parrot and cannot hold your cards. And as for music at the pub, we had The Jam, The Clash, The Pogues, The Stranglers, as well as Duran Duran. But for some strange reason, my buddy (and my oldest daughter's godfather) kept selecting Wham! Do you think he is hiding something.
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Saf, actually it would be more: "Jeez, son. You let yourself get drunk under the table by a bunch of English. And they were Protestants too. You are shaming your people and your church. You need to get to confession - you have a heinous sin over your head."
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3/6/2006 4:04 pm |
what, Marmite is more than a condiment. It is a way of life. It puts hair on your chest, as my gran would say. Crib is the english pub card game of choice. Poker has only just begun to catch on in the UK. However it is not an easy game to play when you are pissed as a parrot and cannot hold your cards. And as for music at the pub, we had The Jam, The Clash, The Pogues, The Stranglers, as well as Duran Duran. But for some strange reason, my buddy (and my oldest daughter's godfather) kept selecting Wham! Do you think he is hiding something.
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You ate black pudding? Seriously? You really, really did eat black pudding? ((((oohhhhhh gaggggg) I make mistakes, I am out of control & at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. ~Marilyn
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so, whats4, are you going to ask Wickedwytch the question that you are dying to ask or should I just do it for you?
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imp, I ate it with gusto. Do I need to send you a barf bag?
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Wickedwytch, that is the way my daughters have been raised - on Marmite. The oldest will be playing football for England soon - the US team was just too wimpy and squeaky clean for her. I told Mr. Whats4 that Marmite puts hair on the chest and since he is one of those ultra-polite Canadians we all hear about, I will ask the question. Since you are the owner of the most splendid chest in Wiltshire, and since I was raised to believe in the power of Marmite to put hair on the chest. Well do you, you know, do you have hair on your chest?
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Ugh... Marmite, Vegemite, whatever you want to call it, it's like eating a yeast infection. Or crushing up brewer's yeast and eating it on toast, instead of popping it in pill form the way God intended.
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MissAnn, Vegemite is for Australians and is therefore made for a weaker constitution than my beloved, robust, Marmite.
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3/7/2006 7:27 pm |
lololol... I would love to see a pic of you the day after... that friend's wife should start a collection of "this is thing I found on my couch this morning" photos ... Thx for the laughs!  Apparently the depth of depravity here is bottomless... don't you feel right at home? ~~~~~
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Feisty, she is a wife in a million. Let me tell you, her birthday is celebrated with a huge party every year at the pub.
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Marmite will not just put hair on your chest- I use it to remove the hair from my legs. Isn't every day St. George Clooney Day? It is at my house.
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i prefer jays form of removing hair with it,horrible stuff,i love the mell of it but the taste no way. You need a strong women to get you out of these terrible habits,marmites and the Sun, I'm a   and i'm here to stay
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papy, the only thing I need to wax eloquent on now is pigeon racing and people will start to believe I am from Newcastle. Ee, by gum, lass, thars a real treat for thee. And as for the strong woman, I have to say, yes, she would need to be strong. Not everyone can deal with a 42 year old kid.
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Suzie, as I said earlier, I was just asking for my Canadian friend. I would say have a good time, but somehow that just doesn't seem to be quite the right thing to say.
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jay, I thought that was that Aussie gonads stuff? I am disappointed that you are not endorsing Marmite. I know you look after your diet and it is loaded in Vitamin B12. It may be the one thing I consumed that entire day that was actually good for me.
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