Another Joke from Davros the Destroyer.

Well this will probably piss a lot of people off...

If you are person who is perhaps prone to being pissed off, read no further ...

What's this?

A shit way to spend Easter.

Thou shalt not worship false Idols!!!

American Idol has a lot to answer for. In true commercial arse-sucking style it has spawned copycat shows in a myriad of countries--well at least Australia, and if my cynical belief in the sheer 'vaccuosity' of humanity in general pans out, there will soon be one in every country on Earth.

Algerian Idol anyone?

What about Chad Idol?

Columbian Idol? The show where the judges shovel cocaine up their snort holes before announcing, 'Eeetzz crrap!'

Cuban Idol? 'You don't like my song? Well say hello to my leetle friend! (cue sound of manic laughter and machine gun fire ... Oh fuck, I wish ...)

Egyptian Idol? No Bangles songs please.

Djiboutian Idol? Never heard of that one before? Well the capitol of Djibouti is called Djibouti. Shake your bootie In Djibouti.

Haitian Idol? Already resembles Hell--why not go there?

North Korean Idol? And the winner is ... Kim Jong Il! Of course the man is the best at everything--just ask him, he will tell you how things should be done.

Latvian Idol.

Federated-Fucking-States-of-Micronesian Idol...

When will it end?

At last count, it was generally accepted that there are 193 counties in the world. Considering that the top five contestants of an Idol program usually secure record contracts, that's 965 new spurious acts on the market a year.

Sweet Jesus--be afraid, be very afraid.

Those 965 shlop stars releasing a minimum of 10 songs on their debut album brings us up to 9650 songs of which, granted, possibly two don't make you want to insert a chainsaw in your ear to dull the pain.

9648 scheisen hausen (as zee Germans say) songs polluting the already stagnant music market.

Fan-fucking-tastic. I can't wait.

What not to cook &trade : Dogshit Nachos

Summer time in Korea and it's as hot as that hot roller in the fucking photocopier that always snags the paper, then burns you when you try and remove it, making you jump backwards and hit your head on the bookshelf as you tear out half the paper, causing you to request the photocopier to 'just fucking work, you fucking piece of shit,' just as one of the students' mothers walks into the office.

Warm indeed, and what better summer food than Nachos Korean style--well not exactly Korean style--this is the version they feed to vegan TV evangelists in hell, while simultaneously applying kimchi enemas. Nonetheless, while this is named 'Dogshit Nachos',for personal reasons I am off the dogshit, and will be using a dogshit substitute, if you will, and no, it's not tofu.



Grab all that shit and chop it up--excepting the corn chips. It is probably best to remove any layers of onion that are starting to liquefy, at this stage. Take a tiny bite of one of the chillies and expectorate violently into the sink as you reef on the cold water and thrust your mouth under it. Remembering an inflight magazine's advice on a Thai Air flight, to hold vinegar in your mouth to relieve chili related trauma--gargle vinegar, before coming to the realisation that it doesn't fucking work. Why have I been passing this information on for all these years?



Fry up the onion and two violently hot chillies with some pepper and a wee bit of stock.



Chop up some kimchi and spring onion if you had forgotten to do that earlier, then chuck the kimchi in to join the fun in the fry pan.



Push some of the detritus cluttering your table onto the floor, to make way for the plate you just washed up for the occasion. Arrange chips on said plate like so.



By now, shit should be starting to burn in the fry pan--don't burn it too much, just a little. Take it out and spread it evenly-ish over the chips. Sprinkle chopped spring onion over this layer.



This next step is tricky.

Take a can of dogshit substitute (tuna) and after draining off the oil and removing any bits of dolphin that catch your eye, spread that shit all over the nachos. Take leave of your brain, and forgetting how much chilli you have already added, dice one more, scoop it up with your fingers, and sprinkle it on top.

Now would be a good time to rub your eye.

As your eye begins to inflame, dance around the kitchen like an idiot, contemplate dowsing your eye with vinegar before attaining a moment of chilli-induced clarity--I can see through time! Vinegar in the eye is a very bad idea.

Deftly, as sparks start to grow at the edge of your vision, throw yourself at the sink, instantly attaining a perfect score on the yet-to-grow-popular game of 'Get the handle of a soup ladle up your nose' as you plunge your head among the dirty dishes, and run cold water into your eye for five minutes.



After you have sufficiently recovered, spread as much cheese as you care for over the top.



Bake that motherfucker in a toaster oven, or, if you are posh, a real oven. Find something to prevent your hands from burning as you take it out.



Cast your eyes over your creation in all its glory. That really does look like dogshit now doesn't it? I suggest watching a cheesy horror movie to distract you while you consume this, and sup upon a chilled glass of orange juice to help numb the fire on your lips.

If it's bothering you, imagine how the dog felt.

What not to cook &trade : Aberration Sandwich

Some weeks ago, I awoke with a killer hangover (much like the one I have now) and ventured out to a new supermarket that was built just behind my apartment, obstructing my view of the mountains. The world was far too bright, and bits of it kept slipping around the edges of my sunglasses and poking me in the eye; it was entirely unpleasant.

I staggered in to the supermarket with its weird Korean trance pop playing and picked up a few things. Lettuce, three radishes (they are the first I have seen in Korea and cost 1500 won ... for three!), and some cut of beef that I grabbed because the guy was hassling me--'What can I get you? What do you want? '
'I don't know. Leave me alone.'
'Do you want this? What about this?'
'Oh, fuck it. That will do.'

Anyway, I barely escaped with my life and headed back home to nurture my hangover. The next day while in class, I was dreaming of what I could make with the contents of my fridge. In my head it was an ethereal delight--a melt-in-your-mouth, gastronomical masterpiece. What I made when I got home looked more like what you see below.

Welcome to What Not To Cook episode #11--Aberration Sandwich.



You will need: bread, mayonnaise, garlic, kimchi, lettuce, a limp radish, a piece of steak, capsicum, havarti cheese, salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, hot sauce, sesame oil, and a thirst for adventure.



Slice that grisly piece of meat down the middle, and open it up so it is hinged like a purse. Layer with roughly chopped garlic and kimchi. See that doesn't look too bad--surely this will work ...



Next stuff some slices of havarti in there and splash on some hot sauce.



Close it up, sprinkle both sides with shitloads of pepper and a wee dash of salt. You can use the heel of your hand to push it in there.



Chuck that bad boy in a fry pan with some sesame oil. Those of you in the know may have realised I have forgotten a crucial step here ... There is nothing holding our little steak purse together ...

Ignore this fact, and blissfully unaware of the horror you have unleashed, continue on to the next step.



Arrange your salad ingredients on some bread like so ...



What the fuck is this? Flip the steak, and attempt to make it close up. Realise it is doomed and pull it out of the frypan and onto a chopping board where you attack it with a large knife.



Weaker souls would have given up on this by now, but not our brave crusader.



Stick it back in the frypan and fry the fuck out of it with some Worcestershire sauce.



Considering most of the havarti has liquefied and caked itself to the frypan by now, prudently add some more to your bread. Don't forget the mayonnaise.



Sweet mother of god, what aberration is this? What scatological remains of a foul and feculent beast most horrid?



Scoop the remains out of the frypan and arrange it neatly on your sandwich, like so.

Top with bread, garnish with something green and something red. Stand back and look out on the panorama of mess you have created. Take a deep breath, grab a carton of orange juice, turn on the Discovery channel, and pray they are not showing anything too disgusting while you eat.



This wasn't too bad, except the meat was as tough as a bulldog's ear.