I attended a daytime wedding on the weekend. Purely because my wife was in the bridal party and I had nothing else to do, I decided to note my various experiences for my lovely readers on my phone.

Enjoy the pointless ramblings, and savour the disjointed thoughts.

11.58am – Weddings. There’s something special about weddings. It drives women insane! Unfair, over simplified stereotype? Possibly, but it’s definitely true for my wife. I’ve never met anyone who gets so excited/frazzled over one day. Want an explanation reader? No. You give ME an explanation. Where are your pants? It’s irrelevant questions like this which ruin a nice day. I’m not wearing pants. What has that got to do with going to a wedding? Everything? Okay, Possibly.

12.04pm – Okay so now I’m in the toilet committing atrocities against mankind and his plumbing systems. It’s so hot. Quenching my thirst with beer is going badly. Maybe I should drink some water. No! A $4000 bar tab is there for a reason. It’s not for me to puss out on.

12.13pm – Still in the toilet. It’s cooler in here.

12.16pm – Okay I’ve met the people I’m sitting with. I know most of them, even if only vaguely. The plan: Smash back a heap of grog, make friends with everyone.

12.30pm – God dammit. Car talk. I got nothing. This was going so nicely. Why do guys have to talk about something so bloody boring? Sure I watch top gear, but that for the comedy aspects. Cars. They’re just bits of moving metal. Right. Change of subject, yes! What? Surfing? Shit I got nothing.

1.13pm – My son is slowly destroying his piece of wedding cake. He’s cushing it into the high chair table. I would have eaten the guys left overs. Selfish little bugger. Oh wait now he’s throwing it. Bits are going everywhere. He’s getting a laugh from everyone so he’s really going for it now. He’s enjoying the cake more than anyone else here.

1.18pm – One of the waitresses has come over quite cranky about the mess. She’s says she’s going to bring back a dust pan a broom for us to clean it up. There is fury in her eyes and infanticide in her heart. If looks could kill I’d be staked out in the Simpson Desert.

1.19pm – Heh. I think I’m one of those parents they talk about on A Current Affair.

1.21pm – Some guy has come to clean up the mess. He’s apologetic, and I think he talked her down. I suppose I should thank him for retaining my testicles.

1.58pm – I love drunk aunts. Stumbling. Cracking on to groomsmen half their age. Leaning forward, grabbing their chest and saying ‘show us your tits’ while in professional photos. That’s what dreams are made of.

2.06pm – Just found out the aunt is also the hairdresser for the bride and bridesmaids. She had a bottle and a half of wine before she started grabbing sharpened metal (scissors) and hacking at their heads. Fantastic.

2.10pm – I’ve just realised; I don’t seem to be drunk enough for this. I haven’t had my hand off a beer but still I feel fine. My stomach is so full of liquid, but it can’t seem to handle what I require of it. Everyone else seems plastered. What’s wrong with me? I’m fighting a losing battle.

2.24pm – What’s the opposite of mutton dressed as lamb, because I’m seeing it.

2.44pm – It’s so damn hot. I’m not moving from my table. Mission over. I don’t want to meet anyone new. This daytime wedding reception thing is weird. I’m not as drunk as I should be considering the amount I’ve had. I can’t explain it.

2.53pm – Jailbait! That’s the word.

3.12pm – Every time I see that waitress she looks like she’s going to stab me. I think she’d appreciate it if I asked her to take off her pants… Her grumpy pants! That’ll win her back.

3.32pm – I haven’t seen my son in hours. I suppose I should be worried. Two year olds can look after themselves right? I might start looking for him. I can see a fair from my chair. *drinks his beer*.

3.34pm – Wait. There he is with his cousin. I’ll call off the search party. *continues to drink his beer*.

3.42pm – The aunt has foisted herself onto the groom’s brother. He looks scared. He’s shaking his head. Okay now she’s putting lipstick on his mouth. I’m not sure what’s going on but it dripping with sexuality and potential man rape. You idiot! The lippy is drugged. You’re going to wake up tomorrow morning in her clutches.

3.43pm – Ding, ding. One ticket to crone-sex please. Grab a jar of Vaseline, because you’ll be up to your groin in sinew and bone.

4.00pm – And that’s it. We’re being kicked out. It’s 4 o’clock in the afternoon. I’m tired, I’m hot, I’m only half cut and I have a waitress who I think is about to follow me into the carpark and knife me. What a bizarre way to spend the afternoon.

4.01pm – Casino anyone?

This food related blog is proudly supported by ‘The Eating Club’ – where all eating is good eating.

Recently I’ve discovered my fellow olililolians have all developed a strong love, nay lust for hollandaise sauce.

I want to blame it on some new wanky trend or stupid fad diet, but after flicking Stu’s Woman’s Day I found nothing to support the theory. It’s like they’ve all signed up to some sort of collective conciousness which suddenly said hollandaise all the way(s).

I love condiments. They’re sometimes the best part of a meal. But hollandaise? It’s so mediocre. It’s like taking a creamy ride on the bland bus. It’s the beige of sauces. In the words of the retards from ‘My kitchen rules and is full of pretentious dickheads’ it’s pedestrian.

So solely for my own amusement I present to you, in no particular order:

Twenty Better Sauces than Hollandaise
- because I got bored before I could think of twenty.

Tomato

Tomato is an obvious starting point to this delicious list. Sure it’s a little plain and simple, but Australian tomato sauce has an excessive amount of sugar added to it and that will endear it to me, and my future diabetes, forever.

Aioli

I feel things about aioli I don’t for other inanimate objects. A yearning. If suddenly laws were changed and I had to marry a sauce, aioli would be up there. Or at the very least I’d cheat on my sauce-bride with it, and have little sauce babies, and I wouldn’t even feel guilty as I knew my faithful sauce wife was at home making me dinner as I gorged myself on another. I better stop now. I’m getting hungry… and sexually confused.

Redcurrant Jelly

Berries in sauce form. I think this is meant to be for roast meat (which it’s great on), but something this good can go on anything.

Lancashire Relish

Like Worstershite sauce? This is better and from northern England, a place with amusing accents. Accented sauce is the best kind of sauce.

Sweet Chilli

I wasn’t sold on sweet chilli sauce for a long time. I would have put it in the same boat, but closer to the life rafts, as hollandaise; HMAS Dull. But I’ve swung around and booked it a seat on the P&O Fairstar, the fun ship. I’ll now gladly skull a bottle with potato wedges, or just as a laxative.

Soy

Essential in Asian food. I love Asian food therefore I must love soy sauce.

Brown

A staple in Britain, this tangy little number looks a lot like barbecue sauce but is more appley and oniony (both cheffery terms).

Lingon Berry

I only discovered this only a month ago and already it’s made my list! Take that hollandaise! Go do some decriminalised drugs you dyke loving bastard!

Gravy

Collecting the fat from a roasting piece of meat, adding flour and herbs then serving it up as a prized part of a meal? Only our poor-as-dirt, cold-climate ancestors who used every piece of an animal and needed the bulk to make it through the harsh winters could have thought this up; and I’m glad they did. Sure gravy’s probably responsible for as many heart attacks as whole chains of take-a-way shops, but it’s so versatile. Awesome on roast. Awesome on chips. Bang. Two staples of a healthy diet covered… in greasy goodness.

Dill

Dill improves anything so it’s no surpise that it makes one of the sexiest damn sauces you can create at home. Some mustard, some sour cream, some lemon juice, some dill. Explosions! Now chuck that sucker on something, anything and throw it down your gob. Feel better? I thought as much. You can thank me later.

Guacamole

Avocado + sour cream. Need I say more?

And finally, a champion that needs no introduction despite the fact I am obviously giving it one now, the winner of the ‘Best sauce in the world competition as voted by science’ –

Barbecue

Oh, I know what you’re thinking. Creating this whole damn list to bag out a ‘boring’ sauce just to then say plain old barbecue sauce is the best.

Well I don’t care.

Though I may eat around and break my poor barbie’s heart, at the end of the day there’s no place I’d rather be then snuggled up next to a bottle of her, gently pouring her on to a sausage roll or a rissole. We’ve been through some stuff together her and I, and when the going gets tough nothing washes away the heart ache and the pain like the erotic delights of her dancing across my tongue.

Sure she’s a bastard child – just a mix of tomato and worstershire sauces – but I love her all the same.

Now excuse me, we’d like some time alone.

A good scam can be impressive.

Howver, I would love to meet the people who fell for this one.

Autobarn…

…for all your autoerotic needs.

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	It’s not just the Scots which are brimming with terrible/awesome alcoholic ideas! A few weeks ago we at olilolo brought you the story of a Scottish brewery which not only produced the world’s strongest beer, but decided to serve it in the hollowed out remains of dead animals.

So it got us thinking, and a little thirsty; surely it’s not just the Scots whom ruin their livers in weird and wonderful ways? If all people were created equal, then surely the rest of us are just as stupid?

So it is with my pleasure, I present to you “F**cked Up Grog from Across the Globe!”

Bakon – Bacon-flavoured vodka.

Above: Glorious Bakon, with a delicious Bacon-Mary.

This sounds like the logical end point of a party discussion on ridiculous uses for bacon. I’ve always found flavoured vodkas a bit unsual, however part of me thinks this sounds like the best invention, ever. It’s funny. It’s delicious. It has a heap of cocktail options – including the Bakon Chocolate Martini. It has everything!

That’s of course until you think about it for more then a few moments.

Imagine, if you will, the delicious taste of bacon. Crispy. Smokey. Slightly salty. A hint of sauce and egg. Mouth watering?

Now think of vodka.

Did anyone else throw up a bit? When they say that bacon makes everything better, I’m not sure if fermented and distilled potatoes was really what they had in mind.

I do like there slogan though: Pure. Refereshing. Bacon.

Three Olives – Sick vodka bastards!

Speaking of flavoured vodkas, English distillers Three Olives have decided to specialise in the poison, and have a whole range from your normal varieties, like vanilla, grape and cherry to just plain stupid varieties.

Well named drinks as “Bubble” and “Purple” are good examples, and while I’ll admit bottling a colour is quite impressive, according to their website it’s only frozen grapes… oh and “Bubble” is fruit.

Another, “root beer” (or sarsaparilla as we’d call it in Australia) is possibly one the worst crimes against humanity I’ve ever heard of; but I don’t like sars so I could be being a little melodramatic.

The big one though is ‘Triple Shot Expresso’. Enjoy the “the luxurious taste of the finest Italian expresso”.

I don’t know about this. I’m guessing the Italians had no idea what you were doing when you imported their coffee, did they Three Olives? They take their coffee pretty damn seriously in Italy. If they could they’d probably use it for blood transfusions.

Now if shitty Hollywood movies have taught me anything, it’s that Italians are all part of the Mafia, and they tend to take exception to a lot of stuff. So I hope you’re paying a bucketload of protection money, otherwise I can’t see your vodka’s wearing a lovely pair of cement shoes.

Kumis – All the deliciousness of milk!

Popular in such locales as Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Mongolia, this drink is made from fermented mare’s milk. Yep, that’s right: Horse milk. This delicious drink has a similar alcoholic content as say, a light-beer. So it takes a whole horse to get drunk, and a herd to throw an awesome party. The fact they’re having to milk horses in the first place is probably a good indication of the situation for the peoples of the Central Asian steppes, but they also happen to be largely lactose-intollerant. With mare’s milk being significantly higher in lactose then cow’s milk, the only way they can digest it is to break it down through fermentation, and get completely smashed! Make fun of cask wine all you want, Kumis is THE poor man’s drink.

Snake Wine – Another dead animal themed drink.

Not a company trying to get one up on the tequila worm, in fact snake wine originated in China during the Western Zhou dynasty in 771 BC. Followers of traditional Chinese medicine believe consuming snakes is not only tasty but also good for your health, and like all good people they found a way to combine it with strong liquor.

Some people, probably after having a few shots of the ol’ snake-juice, sometimes eat parts of the snake but primarily the creature is there to simply infuse it’s essence into the drink.

While I find the idea truly disgusting, I might point out now that I have actually had snake wine while on a Contiki tour in through France. A drunk vineyard owner made grappa in the same way and was handing out free shots. I’m not sure if it was the wine tasting before, or my inbuilt desire to get free stuff, but a shot of snake wine I had.

Grappa is evil stuff. Adding snake doesn’t help.

Mamma Mia Pizza Beer – When you hate yourself a little bit.

Above: Pizza Beer – Ale brewed with oregano, basil, tomato and garlic.

Let’s put aside for a second that this is another drink the Italians might be interested in, flavoured beer is as strange to me as flavoured vodka. Probably more so as vodka at least has a fairly tasteless starting point.

Sure I’ve tried chilli beer (wasn’t much chop), and beer with lime (not my sort of thing) but pizza? What manner of insanity is this?

According to their website married couple Tom and Athena Seefurth had a brainwave one public holiday. They wanted a beer that went perfectly with their pizza, but why go through all the hassle of eating AND drinking? So in true American style they smashed it all together into one easy to consume package and pizza beer was formed!

Part of me wants to denigrate this drink like it’s herpes in a bottle, but bugger it! The target audience for this beer must be lazy, go no-where bums – in other words, the target audience is me.

So bugger it I say dear reader, I reckon pizza beer sounds great, and if anyone wants to split some importing fees I say we get some in and write off an afternoon.

Do you ever wonder if people are driven a certain way by forces outside their control? Have our parents imposed upon us our personailities and our defects from the moment of birth?

Coming home from an interstate roadtrip I pulled into a servo to top up my fuel. The attendant was serving someone, so I lingered around the magazines and checked out the covers of the men’s mags. The other customer left so I turned to walk to the register when the attendant calls out, “You looking at the men’s mags?”

“Uh, yeah”, I say a little unsure of where this conversation about to go.

“You should grab a copy of Nuts! It’s this Pommy mag, which is kinda like a mix of Zoo and Picture.”

“Nuts?”

“Yeah, that’s it with the yellow cover”.

“Heh,” I snicker to myself. I’m nothing if not juvenile of mind, so a foreign magazine called ‘Nuts’? I’m sold for the name alone.

I grab a copy and head up to pay.

“Just this and the fuel thanks mate”.

The attendant’s eyes drift down to the magazine thrown lazily on the counter. I giggled to myself thinking I’d caught him having a sneaky glance, but his eyes didn’t leave the glossy cover during the whole transaction. If he’d been any more intent on it he’d have been drooling.
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