I had my second Alton edition of the Talking Newspaper in a row, this afternoon. I tend to get a bit friendly with the listeners when they’ve heard me the week before – it makes me feel closer, I guess. So when it comes to the cinema listings I tend to say things like “Well, not much has changed. The films are the same as last week and they’re still rubbish.”
I think I’m getting too cheeky. While my readers and I have a lot of fun, I should probably tone it down a bit next year. For instance, one of my readers had a story about the annual curry awards (how can anyone possibly take that seriously?), which resulted in a local restaurant winning one. I had a story that contained the word ‘curry’ in the headline but, really, had nothing to do with curry per se.
When it came for my turn, I said “Who knew there were awards for curry?” and then went into my story, explaining the tenuous link. Of course, I had the readers in stitches. So much so that Christine, who came after me, couldn’t speak for a few seconds.
It was then a case of mentioning curry as many times as I could in order, I said, to win the award for most mentions of curry in a Talking Newspaper edition. Which put me in mind of the Christmas goat of a few years ago.
When I finally reached the sports report, I announced it by saying “And now it’s time for Gary’s sports news and I promise you, there’s no mention of the word curry…except for that one.” then launched into my report. I could hear the chuckles in the studio as I read about the various local results and action. It was all very silly.
Afterwards, seeing as the poodles went to the kennel this morning, I decided to try the Nelson Arms for tea. I was a bit early as the chef didn’t start work until 6pm. So I bought a pint and sat and read.
Gradually the pub filled up with more and more happy, raucous people. All well and good for them but hardly conducive to a pleasant meal and read by the open fire. I finished my beer and went down Castle Street to my favourite restaurant.
Doughball snowballs is a new dessert at Pizza Express and I have to say, it is amazing. Little balls of pizza dough, fried and topped with cinnamon, which are then dipped into a little bowl of marscapone. Heaven. I’m not 100% sure why I didn’t decide to just go to Pizza Express from the off.
So, I finally made it home, stuffed and happy to an empty, quiet house. And not a curry in sight.