Don’t ever visit a sex shop with a full bladder! Seriously, grabbing your Foetus-Canon, crossing your legs and bouncing around looking desperate looks bad enough in Builder’s Warehouse but it is just plain pervy in a sex shop. Matters not a bit whether you’re male or female. I have different, but no less valuable advice for our kids – if anything ever happens to us, please don’t open the safe. Trust me, the most you’ll get out of it is a serious buzz, and it will mentally scar you for life.
My friends are all reading 50 Shades, some of them for the second or third time. I don’t understand why one would engage in reading mediocre literature to get excited about ‘the dark side’ of sexuality, when all you have to do is Google ‘BDSM’ and hey presto – instant gratification, and you didn’t have to read a shitty book to get there. It’s art I tell you!
I got quite excited some years ago when Sir’s ex-wife gave me a playtime hamper one Xmas, which included a can of sexy spray-cream and a (small but gorgeous) leather whip, thinking it was a subtle hint that Sir had some dark naughty fetishes. I promptly rushed out to add a pair of handcuffs to the collection, but sadly, the only thing this collection elicited from Sir was some major Evil Eye and what sounded like a recitation of the “Swearing Dictionary”. So I had to give up all BDSM fantasies and take up swearing instead.
Talking about Builder’s Warehouse……… there’s finally a reason for me to like going there with Sir – printed duct tape!!! I am walking around the house wondering what I can tape, so many choices – wrists
ankles ducts, ducks, stuff!!! Builder’s is great for BDSM enthusiasts – chain, rope, even pink drills. Just saying.
I’m a sick people. No really. Three visits to the doc in two weeks. Sir’s flu got me, other shit got me, and this week we had the Eyeball Incident of 2014. My right pupil descended like a freaky gonad and took on a shape that had actual CORNERS!! I am so not shitting you! Sir brought dinner to a halt so he could EyePic on my Eye-Phone. Next morning at 5am Sir and I were sitting in bed arguing about me going back to the doc again, but my eye was all round and perky again by then so I just didn’t see the need. My throat was also way too sore to endure a drawn-out argument so I relented.
Sir generally has a shitfit that I wait too long to go to the doc when something starts feeling iffy, and I just don’t think it’s always necessary to have every niggle checked out. I think I should just put the doc on retainer and go once a week in case. A dear friend recently turned 40, and sent a message saying “Well at least they say life begins at 40!” I hastened to correct her with “Life AT THE DOCTOR begins at 40!”
So that’s why my blog suffered some neglect recently – my mojo lefto because I was sicko.
Buuuuuuuuuuuuut I’m back. Sir is back to being totally fucking impossible and his latest thrill is hiding everything from remotes to Probiotics (we collect shitloads of the latter when we get sick – just never bother to take them) to socks in my pillowcases everytime I get up to go and have a pee at night. Yes yes OCD…… at least three pee breaks before I turn out the lights at 10….. I’d hate for my sleep to be interrupted by a full bladder. Aaaaaaaaaaaand there we go – full circle back to a full bladder.
And on to my recipe for this post. Chocolate eclairs, and choux fingers with caramel and almonds …….. the latter being insanely moreish!
CHOUX THIS IS LEKKER!
100g Unsalted Butter
150g Cake Flour, sifted
250 ml Water
4 Eggs, lightly beaten
Bring the butter and water just to the boil, and remove the pan from the heat. Add the cake flour with the salt and sugar, and beat. Don’t use your wanky hand for this – balance out the muscle tone.
When the dough is nice and smooth like a Hillbrow hooker, return it to the heat and cook until it forms a ball and pulls away from the sides of the pan like a shy virgin. Now remove from heat, and add the beaten eggs slowly, beating very well after each addition until you have a thick and shiny paste that drops off a spoon when shaken. I will not even try to make a comparison here because I am unable to think of anything that isn’t sexual.
Fill a piping bag with the paste, and pipe 8cm lengths onto a baking sheet (using a 1cm nozzle). Bake at 200⁰C for 20 to 25 minutes. They should be light golden brown. Cool on a wire rack.
For the chocolate eclairs, WHIP cream to stiff peaks (porn right there!). I don’t like sweetened cream, but if that rocks your world, feel free to add whatever you damnwell please right about now. Poke two holes in the bottom ends of the profiteroles, and using a piping bag, fill with the whipped cream. You can add finely chopped nuts, chocolate shavings etc, whatever floats your boat.
For the toppings – melt 100g of chocolate and add about 50g of butter, and dip the eclairs in the chocolate. Shake off the excess and allow to set.
For the almond caramel pastries, fill the fuckers with the whipped cream first, then bring 250g sugar to the boil with 225ml water. Boil over medium high heat, but do not stir, rather swirl it around in the saucepan. When it turns a golden caramel colour, remove from the heat and immediately proceed to dip your pastries into the caramel. You are totally going to burn a finger / a hand / a something at this stage. It’s inevitable. Try as I may to avoid them, burns are totally fucking guaranteed.
Place the pastries back on the cooling rack and sprinkle over some flaked almonds. These are irresistible in a big bad way!
Happy spanking ’till next week!