This post first appeared in a now defunct blog.
Having been put on trial at the Galactic Court of Justice for the ‘crimes’ of all earplugkind, Throgennis Frote gives voice to his anger. In fact he tears them off a strip. He’s a mouthy little git. From We Stand Accused. Fascinating factoid: the whole idea for We Stand Accused came from the discovery of this prismatic sunlight on Tooty’s sitting room carpet.
Okay, Tooty the Chef has done albondegas before, but that was in his bare-buttock’d days. These days you’re spared the spectacle: these days it’s all about the yum-yums. So, anyway, this is how it all began…
So what do we have here? Well there appears to be a jar of mixed spices, a small random tomato-based sauce mix, some toms, diced carrot and onions, chopped olives, and some minced pork – from Sainsbury’s because their’s are only five percent fat, whereas Waitrose is eight percent fat, and more expensive too. No contest. Naturally some ingredients have been left out in this picture; that is becauseTooty the Chef is a wally and didn’t think to include them.
What he did next will not astound you. He tossed the raw stuff into a bowl and added two eggs, which he then blended…
Looking at the resulting mess he quickly realised that there was no way on this Earth that any balls created from it would hold together in the frying pan; so (he reasoned) the obvious answer to the problem was to add a binding agent. Something designed to thicken a sauce would surely hold the meat and vegetables together – wouldn’t it? He added cornflour…
Then rolling the balls in regular flour, it began to look as though his genius was proving itself…
…though the carrot and onion had clearly been insufficiently diced and, for a while, it was touch-and-go…
To counter this error, he made sure that the ‘bottom’ of each ball was nicely burnt before flipping them over – for the first and only time. Whilst the balls crackled nicely, tagliatelli was tossed into boiling water and stirred mightily…
It would be repeatedly stirred, every so often, until the very end. The dozy old ladle-weilder hates anything sticking to the bottom of his pans. It’s an anathema to him. Or an enema.
Whatever, with the balls now sealed and no longer in danger of breaking up like an asteroid en route for Earth, Tooty elected to toss in the chopped toms and olives…
They quickly succumbed to the heat, and before long the sauce found itself sploshed handsomely into the mix…
Gently teasing the resultant goo between the balls, Tooty allowed this to simmer for an indeterminate amount of time. Then, when it looked as though the meal could not possibly be improved by leaving it over the heat for a moment longer, he removed it and lay it gently upon a bed of pasta…
When I use the word ‘gently’, I mean that he didn’t drop it from a great height. And just to prove that it really was Tooty the Chef who created this wondrous dollop of edibleness, here he is with his hat on…
He looks pleased, coz now he’s gonna eat it. Who wouldn’t? Well obviously people who despise pig-based cooking upon cultural or religious grounds, and vegans; both of which Tooty aint. But otherwise…who?
This post has appeared previously upon a defunct blog.
Ice-World border guards are caught…er…off-guard by the sudden arrival of Clancy Hardnut as he passengers aboard a hover sled – driven by Wendy Earwacks, who is a female member of the enemy’s blue-hued civilisation. They can barely believe their eyes: fraternisation between the races is unheard of. From Cold War. Fascinating factoid: when this story first appeared on the Internet in 2016, a reader was most amused by the ‘hover sled’. He recognised it as being a part from a cannibalized steam iron. He made no mention of the upturned Nescafe Dolce Gusto coffee pods though.
When I bought this…
…during the Autumn of 2022, I must admit that I felt some doubt. Not so much about spending £7000 on a mere single-cylinder 450cc motorcycle; but more about how good it really was. I thought it was fabulous and punched waaaay above its weight. But what do I know? What do I have to compare it with? Okay a Yamaha XJR1300 – but that’s not a modern bike: it’s two decades old. And it’s a big lumbering monster with more power than I (in my mid-sixties) know what to do with. I really wondered if I had done the right thing. Should I have cast my net farther afield? Well this week Motorcycle News had a full spread test of the Fantic Caballero Scrambler, in which they compared it with a much larger single – the Mash 650. The result?
Well, to use a colloquial term, the Fantic pissed all over the Mash. Look – they gave it FIVE STARS. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a magazine wax so lyrical about any bike. They absolutely loved it. Total vindication for Tooty. But I’m glad I spent the extra on the Deluxe version: I really don’t like the standard bike’s yellow number board.
Myriad Sparrows live within this hedgerow. How do they survive the barbs? Or is it a case of the thorns offering the tiny birds protection from predators? They certainly squawk a lot. But I guess I would too – if I had those things jabbing me up the arse every five minutes!
P.S Don’t you think those three bramble leaves look rather predatory?
Probably just in time to become involved with some disaster that befalls the Museum of Future Technology…
Grass cropped short by sheep. The icicles are obviously the work of global warming. Facetious comment courtesy of Tooty Nolan.
Details of a catering merger have emerged that could threaten the continued success of the purveyors of the most vile coffee inside the Museum of Future Technology – Cafe Puke. Secret photographs taken in the undeveloped region of the arboretum strongly suggest that construction of a new cafe is well underway…
Although including a distinctive foyer, the building appears to follow the design of the majority of Cafe Puke outlets. But, as this photograph shows, the hoarding apparently makes mention of the rival cafe chain – Skanki Kaffe. However, leaked pictures of the interior do not support this assertion. Workers were tight lipped when quizzed about the new-build. Even Rupert Piles and his huge 3D TV camera, despite trudging back a forth across the doorway all morning, could garner no information…
Nevertheless rumours continue to propagate, particularly when posters purporting that the endeavour is supported by the youngest of the the Earplug Brothers – twins Chester and Miles, and the famous Ice World scientist Uda Spritzer, appeared inside the half-completed future place of business…
Despite denials from Skanki Kaffe that the company has designs on supplanting Cafe Puke as the cafe of choice within the much vaunted and hallowed walls of the Museum of Future Technology, photographic evidence of a conversation between a representative of Skanki Kaffe, and Mister Pong – owner of several Exotic Food restaurants within the museum and the neighbouring conurbation of La Ciudad de Droxford cannot be ignored…
Further evidence came when the museum’s Avatar and the Angel with a Huge Nose were seen blessing the almost complete catering outlet in the middle of the night…
Apparently only the installation of a whooshy, gurgly coffee machine and a futuristic urinal is required to transform the building from a potential cafe into a proper emporium for the celebration of the humble coffee bean – complete with labels such as Cafe au Belch, Vomitino, and Desalinated – all well-known labels belonging to Skanki Kaffe. When interviewed through the side window of a Cafe Puke concession, general manager, Cool-Dude Plantagenate…
…was quoted as saying: “Couldn’t give a plugmutt’s arse. Bring it on Skanki: your Vomitino aint got nothing on our Crappachino: it’s almost potable!”
We await developments.
© Paul Trevor Nolan 2023
This first appeared in a now defunct blog.
When Bubbles Gloor and Barclay Scrimmage stole the prototype Prowler from the Punting-Modesty Munitions Company, Bubbles couldn’t help showing it off to her mother, Millicent, and her ski coach boyfriend Wagontrain McCallister in their ski lodge at the end of a frozen fiord. From The Veil of Shytar. Fascinating factoid: The fiord is actually a hollow in the trunk of a fallen tree that has filled with water. Yes, I know it doesn’t look like it, but it is. Just goes to show what a photographic genius the creator of the Earplug Adventures really is!
Hola and welcome to La Cocina de Tooty…
On this occasion Tooty the Chef planned to make some Bami Goreng, but (as is his way) he didn’t get all the necessary ingredients. So, instead he went for an alternative – for which he did have the ingredients. He chose to name it Tooty Goreng. And just to make the meal all the more fantastic, he decided that the sweet would involve puff pastry, pear, and apple. I mean…why not?
He set the ball rolling by digging out some chopped pears and apples that he’d plonked into the bottom drawer of his freezer during the preceding Autumn, and crammed them into the bottom of one of his roasting things. To this he added some cinnamon and sweetener…
The puff pastry was then rolled out and placed on top – making sure to bolster the edges…
Of course this pastry was pre-made in the Jus-Rol factory. You don’t imagine Tooty the Chef has spare time to roll, then re-roll, and then roll again stuff he’d put together himself, do you? No-no-no, that’s too much like hard work and eats into his leisure time. He’d far sooner be doing this…
But, anyway, Now was the correct time to get the oven warmed up. So having done so Tooty laid out the ingredients for his Tooty Goreng…
They included pak choi, peppers, carrot, bacon medallions, brocolli, dark soy sauce, oyster sauce, ketjap manis, and sambal oeleck. Naturally there would be more, but he hadn’t planned that far ahead when this photo was taken. He doesn’t “do” planning.
Shortly after that he squirted some olive oil into a wok and set the gas alight beneath it. Once warmed up he added the carrots, pak choi, and peppers…
A couple of minutes head start was required before the brocolli joined the other ingredients…
This he sizzled for several minutes. At one point he needed to add a dash of water when things began sticking to the non-stick surface of the wok. I think they call it burning. Shortly though some frozen chalots joined in and moistened the situation slightly…
Then it was the turn of the quick-cooking bacon, which he sizzled until the raw pinkiness had disappeared…
I think some spastic twitches must have occurred then because he tipped rather too much flavouring in…
Three dollops of sambal oeleck, when one would have been sufficient. The dark soy was okay, but he went loony with the oyster sauce and very nearly drowned the lot.
Once this was bubbling nicely, it was time to slide the apple/pear. puff pasty combo into the maxxed-out oven…
If all went to plan, it would be ready when the first course had been consumed. Naturally he was correct. In fact he barely had time to heat up the custard! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Shortly another forgotten ingredient was tugged from the bottom of the wine rack. Udon noodles. These were added to the concoction and stirred in…
What – you don’t keep udon noodles in your wine rack? I thought everyone did. I mean, it’s the obvious place to keep them…isn’t it? Again I digress. This was allowed to simmer for a short while, until the great chef decided that it was ‘done’…
…and he proudly displayed a bowl of the…er…stuff…to camera…
And the pudding? Check it out…
Pity the custard was lumpy.
When you’re fifty miles from home and your transportation is a light-weight street scrambler, this is not a welcome sign…
It’s not every day that the Cafe Puke goes to red alert. What kind of emergency could it be? Has the crappachino machine malfunctioned? Is there a newly-formed volcano erupting in the foyer? The guy nearest camera certainly has no idea.
Answer: Because he’s stupid. Or Maybe because it’s a labour of love.
Although absolutely nothing has been done regarding the follow-up to The Veil of Shytar, Tooty hasn’t been entirely idle. He may have expended exactly no time whatsoever thinking about what path the next story might follow, but he has been reducing the size of his bank account by purchasing lighting equipment so that the non-existential sequel will be well-lit. Okay, it wasn’t a lot of money, but he had to earn it, which is more than his e-books will, coz he doesn’t sell them: he gives them away in PDF form. What a dope! But that’s by-the-by: let’s see what the dumbo’s been up to. Well firstly there’s this…
Look, nice, isn’t it?
At last Tooty can shoot without fear of the camera casting a bloody great shadow across the subjects. And regard…
…the same scene can be shot with differing shades and intensities…
Even a really warm glow…
What wonders might be performed with this light? But he was not content with a mere ring-light: he also bought a…
…head light, for close-up shooting in tight corners, where normally shadows are manifest. Of course the happy snapper couldn’t wait to shoot something fresh with his new ‘toys’, so he popped out to his local Sainsbury’s and snatched a yoghourt tray from the cooler shelf. I’m sure you’ll recognise it: it’s the one he uses to create the Cafe Puke outlets. And having done so, he created another…
Charming, don’t you think? Can you not imagine yourself standing beneath that blue light and soaking up the ambience? Here it is peopled…
And look at the bloody size of it: it’s massive!
“Why so big?” I hear you sub-vocalise.
Answer: So Tooty can get some depth of field in his micro-world shots. So characters can be emphasized better by placing the background out of focus…
It also allows him to remove some of the superstructure…
…which, in turn facilitates the correct usage of the previously mentioned head-light…
All in all, money well spent – or so says he. Does it help create ideas for the next story? Er…no: but when he does think of something, it will look nice.
T’was March 2022 when the last Revel in the Ribaldry appeared in these hallowed cyber-pages. So I funk it was about time Number 38 poked its head above the parapet. No dilly-dallying; on with an extract from my favourite book of all time by whatever author you care to mention. Yes, it’s my…
Here follows an extract from Chapter Six – A Pocket of Empire. For the benefit of anyone who has never experienced this fabulous e-book, it is actually a collection of short stories that have been ingeniously linked together in one narrative by your host.
Colonel Goliath Van Spoon was Lieutenant LaMerde’s commanding officer. For a hamster he was remarkably large. Some had even described him as ‘hulking’. And also unlike those he led, Van Spoon was neither French nor hamster-sexual. He was Dutch, and he wore outrageously large clogs, and hung large photographs of polders, dykes, and naked females upon his office wall, just to emphasize the fact. And right now he was seated behind a cheap chipboard desk where he listened to his subordinate’s report.
“For sure. For sure.” Van Spoon would nod as each interesting piece of information was imparted.
“So you see, Sir,” LaMerde concluded, “The peasants are revolting.”
“For sure they’re revolting,” Van Spoon agreed, “They never wash as far as I can tell. I can smell the village from my billet – and that’s saying something, man: The latrine outflow pipe is situated just below it.”
LaMerde silently ground his incisors together. It was his opinion the Colonel was unfit for duty. His mind tended to wander into the esoteric at inopportune times; and his decision-making process was often interfered with by the consumption of alcoholic beverages that were supplied by the Hamster-British owners of the castle. As a result of this several patrols had been forced to fight their way back to the safety of the castle through besieging trinket-sellers; swarming insects; and the occasional gang of wandering prostitutes – only to be told to go back out again and knock properly.
Van Spoon appeared to make a decision. He said, “Let’s take this upstairs.”
LaMerde’s shoulders slumped. ‘Upstairs’ meant a visit to Sir Cuthbert and Lady Agatha Strawberry-Nose.
“Should we really, Sir?” he tried to dissuade his commanding officer, “I mean – they’re hardly likely to give us sound advice, are they? After all it was the French Florid Legion who dispossessed them of their nice retirement home, turned it into a fortress, and forced them to live in the highest turret.”
It was a well-reasoned argument, but Van Spoon would have no truck with it. “For sure I’m thinking that you don’t trust our reticent hosts, LaMerde: Is that because they are Hamster-British?”
LaMerde discovered himself speechless: He simply couldn’t believe that the colonel was accusing him of being racist. In fact he had an entirely different reason for wanting to avoid Lady Agatha Strawberry-Nose, but he felt that he wasn’t at liberty to divulge that information.
Van Spoon took his subordinate’s silence as contrition. “For sure I was thinking that. Well, Lieutenant, I have a little treat for you. Follow me.”
With that he thrust his chair backwards, hopped over the desk like the Olympic hurdler that he’d been in his youth, and was out of the door before you could say “By the Saint of All Hamsters!”
With the fear that his career with the French Florid Legion was in jeopardy, LaMerde followed in haste.
A few minutes later Van Spoon and LaMerde had climbed the long spiral staircase to the living quarters of the elderly Hamster-British citizens – Sir Cuthbert and Lady Agatha Strawberry-Nose. Van Spoon rapped sharply upon the soft balsa wood door. It gave alarmingly beneath his meaty knuckles, which resulted in what appeared to be permanent, and rather unsightly indentations. He noticed this, and immediately stepped back. “For sure this soft wood gives alarmingly beneath my meaty knuckles.” He said – before lifting LaMerde from the ground and depositing him directly in front of the door.
It was not a moment too soon for Van Spoon: The door fairly whipped open as though it was attached to a powerful elastic cord with a nasty temper.
Lady Agatha’s face appeared in the door frame. She regarded the indentations left by the colonel’s knuckles. Then she looked at LaMerde who stood before her with a sickly smile upon his hamstery face. For a moment it appeared that she might explode in anger, but then she caught sight of LaMerde’s whiskers as they shook violently with trepidation inside his gargantuan hood.
“Serge!” The plump aristocratic female hamster pulled the lieutenant to her heaving bosom, and hugged him close, “Why you naughty male.” She admonished cheerfully, “You’ve been going under-cover with the natives again. One of these days they’ll catch you – and do all sorts of ghastly things to you. Oh I couldn’t bear it: I might never see your handsome face again!”
Van Spoon could see that his subordinate was uncomfortable. In fact he noticed that he wasn’t actually breathing anymore, and was turning a nasty shade of blue.
“Madam,” he said as he extricated the female’s fingers from around the slender frame of the junior ranking officer, “we are here to ask for your husband’s advice.”
Naturally Lady Agatha complied: To have refused would have been a terrible social faux pas. And so the two Legionaries were ushered into the presence of the castle’s true owner.
© Paul Trevor Nolan 2013
This book – amazingly – remains on-sale. You can link to the better-known vendors via the Tooty’s E-Books Available to Buy Here page. It’s not expensive either – despite being the best book in the world. Oh, and it’s rude too.
The Earplug Adventures began life on this blog – right back in 2014. So I think it only right that (following their dismal showing in their own blog) they should return here: the home of earplug fiction. Henceforth all the stuff that appeared on the accursed failed blog will (as if like magic) reappear in these hallowed cyber-pages. Stuff like this…
Following uncounted millennia in suspended animation, a newly-formed ocean reanimates ancient aquatic earplugs upon Mars. Here Arthur and Millicent find their way to the surface for the first time. From Haunted Mars Volume Two. Fascinating factoid: The bubbly surface of the new ocean is actually semi-melted sound deadening material. The earplugs aren’t embedded in it; instead they have had their bottom halves excised – giving the impression that they are partially submerged. Well that’s the idea anyway. Did it work?
Or ‘That’ with Garlic Bread? Whichever, another gastronomic triumph!
…with a touch of brown.
This shot was taken from the beach just off the mouth of the River Adur in Shoreham-by-Sea. And very nice (and cold) it was there.
And I went all the way there on my diddy little Fantic Caballero!
I suspected as much, when I first began my countryside photo-blog, that it wouldn’t last long. What has surprised me though, is the reason for it’s demise. Okay, it didn’t attract many views, which is probably quite a good excuse for calling it a day: but it wasn’t that which made me quit. It was the difficulty in choosing which pictures to include on the blog. There was only so much room in the memory – one gigabyte – and just so many pictures to select from. Simply put, I have too many photos in my library: whichever one I choose, I then think I could have chosen a better one. It’s maddening. I wasn’t enjoying it. And then when the ‘faves’ stopped…well it was all the excuse I needed. The blog is toast. Perhaps if there were two of me it might have been easier…
P.S I pride myself with choosing quality subjects. It’s so important.
Walking the Fine Line Between Clever and Stupid 