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Thursday 26 September 2013

Sex, Chillies and Carrots

We'll get the shocker out of the way first, shall we?  You send your son for 6 weeks to South America on an amazingly educational and fun-filled trip, including the Amazon, Venezuela, the flora, the fauna, learning to drive a truck and what does he bring you back?

Why a Hat, of course.

So apart from the fact that it's a great chance to show off Tim's sparkly blue eyes (Note to self: send razor blades to Italy in the morning...), there has to be a story right?

Close to Tim's house, there resides a champion chilli grower.  Tim was telling me that he been down there on Saturday but that he had wimped out of the "really hot" ones and bought a few of the second-layer-down-in-the-heat-thing.  I still advised rubber gloves, sunglasses and washing the chopping board with lots of bleach and hot water. There was a sheepish pause. It was definitely not an Italian telephone connection pause, but a sheepish one.

"And the knife", he says.

"Oh yes!  Definitely clean the knife thoroughly.  Through the dishwasher, I'd suggest."

"Well, I know that NOW!" he says


"Last night I did myself some chillies to go with the cheese thingy, I do."

"Oh YES.  Wine o'clock nibbly thingy with that white cheese.  I LURVE that." 


"And then I chopped the carrots for supper." 


"Poor Hamish.  He got the top of the first carrot that I had sliced with the chilli knife.  It blew his the top of his head off and he went a very funny colour."

So now Hamish will be needing that hat for the next few weeks to keep the top on his head on.

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