One trick I learned from my granny decades ago was how to make your own self-raising flour when you’ve only got plain flour in the cupboard (I suppose self-raising is British for “cake flour” and plain is “all-purpose” Stateside, right?) - for every 100g of plain flour, add 1 teaspoon of baking powder.  It’s best…

I found myself wondering just what Chalamet sees in the Interchangeable Jenner and I realised: all men - myself included - have at least one trashy, shitty boyfriend/girlfriend who looks good on your arm but is useless in every other respect. Hope he’s had his shots.

What a delightful advertorial, Micheline!  Brava!

Hide them under the floorboards for future residents to shit themselves when they find them.  That or you just burn the creepy motherfuckers in a bonfire.  

Tough fucking shit, JT. My boyfriend said to me years ago that some of the stuff that would occasionally surface on gossip sites and blogs about the things going on in their relationship - and in other relationships he got himself into - made him think that he was a pretty twattish twerp of a boy. Not man, boy.

To the troglodyte in the greys who shat upon my poverty-shaming comment - read that list of ingredients back to yourself (slowly.  You may need to ask your mother to sound the words out for you, pleb) and you tell us - would you rather spend a few quid on a jar of ready-made pesto or are you that deluded that you’d…

Eh, just replace it with a paper spoon like they did with the straws. Now, that was a resounding success!

Yeah, exactly.  If you want to make store-bought pesto taste nicer, you can always add your own seasonings to bump up the flavour and dried herbs last a hell of a lot longer than people realise, especially if you store them correctly (people - get thee to an Asian supermarket and get a masala dabba)  Unless you know…

I should have posted this after I convinced the cat to go attack the hell out of my partner’s feet last night, but I did the costings for a basic basil pesto - the same sort of pesto I mentioned that was £3.35...

There’s also a degree of poverty-shaming. A jar of decent pesto from my local Tesco is £3.35 (or US$4.06). To get all of the ingredients together for “better than store-bought” would cost a fair whack more (I’ve not costed it because I’m busy fending off an annoyed cat) and, honestly, the jar is often better value…

HAIL THE MIGHTY BEETROOT! Beetroot with a soft fried egg is amazing. It’s not a new thing either (well, to the waddlers it might be) first appearing in the 1940s in Australia.  It’s a shame it’s not made its way to the Land of Ranch Ejaculate.

My estimations of her just went up dramatically upon learning that she hates the congealed horse-cum mid-western waddlers call “Ranch Dressing”. Also, who the fuck takes photographs of their food before eating?  Get a fucking life (and a proper job).

Not only is Utah full of questionable perverts with multiple wives and freakish white teeth they’ve also got an insatiable demonic lust for “candy corn”.

Gosh, all those words and you didn’t even mention the one character that was comedy gold every time she appeared...

Invasion of the Body Snatchers has been remade three times since the original 1956 version - the superior 1978 version (which leaned ever-so-deliciously into the American paranoia of the 1970s), Body Snatchers in 1993 (which was meh for most of it) and the truly fucking awful The Invasion in 2007. Each of the…

Jesus, but this is a barrel-scrape if I ever saw one.  Congratulations, Dennis, you’ve won “How To Be Salad-Averse In The Mid-West” this month.  

Ah, I’m Scottish (thus we view you guys as our “cool cousins who live in that cool place with the bitey things”). We use “Cunt” as a verb. “That cunting American cunted this conversation up, the useless fucking cunt and just when I thought he was one of the decent cunts, you know?” (I think I might have caused someone…

Jesus. Unclench your arsecheeks, petal. You’re not making diamonds down there, just haemorrhoids.

You can’t even say “twat” properly - it’s not twot. It’s twat. T-wah-t. Say it with me, loud and proud: twat.  Twat twat twatty twat-twat.  Makes an excellent verb too.

Better not watch Four Weddings and a Funeral. It’ll crimp your hair with the language...