Killing me softly with condiments

In an attempt to create the ultimate spicy sauce just now (something I've been attempting for a long time), and in the testing thereof, I managed to give myself uncontrollable hiccups. The sauce was so spicy that I'm not only sweating and my eyes streaming, but worse, I had to remove my beenie. Disaster.

These are the ingredients in case anyone would like to make themselves hiccup (although I wouldn't recommend it: As a direct result of this sauce, I ended up spilling Ribena all over myself whilst trying to remedy the hiccuping situation):

• Indian Curry Sauce
• Soy Sauce
• Mexican Chilli Sauce (Death sauce)
  
• Heinz Tomato Ketchup (The upside-down squeezy kind)
  
• Tabasco Sauce
• HP Sauce
• Brown Sauce
• BBQ Sauce

These sauces were added according to spiciness. The more spicy the sauce, the more I added. This was served on pasta, although I don't think that was a mitigating factor in the hiccupping side-effect.

It should also be noted that I find none of these sauces on their own spicy at all, so I think there's a super duper chemical reaction going on that's activating the spice and making me taste it. Unless you come from Bradistan and were raised on curry, or have an aspestos mouth, I would not recommend you try this combination.

ROUND! BEHIND!

Oh my god, I never thought I'd make it through tonight. My first shift at Prohibition was fun, but sooo hectic. I did not stop rushing round like a blue arsed fly the entire night. The place was rammed. I think they were pretty impressed though, so hopefully I'll get another shift. When I ended the shift, all I wanted was a curry, a joint, a shag and bed. I managed the curry. I'm about to manage the bed. The shag I'll have to wait 3 weeks for. I hope Marisa realizes she's in grave danger when she arrives in England.

Naomi is desperate for me to come and work at the Hard Rock Cafe, but I think I'm going to have to turn her down - for a start, they only play rock music in there, and I think it would probably drive me spare, and secondly, there's a girl that works in there that looks just like Marisa, and at a time when I'm already missing her bucket loads, that would just be rubbing my face in it I fear.

Oh, and just to rub salt in it (so to speak), Naomi's doing a nuddie photoshoot with the Marisa look-alike in a week. It's like I've seen the pearly gates. Except they're actually just made of plastic and I'm not allowed in either way. So here's what I'm thinking... Marisa look-alike can transfer to the LA Hard Rock, and finish off Marisa's degree for her. In the meantime, Marisa can come here early, and fill in for look-alike at the photoshoot, thus fullfilling not only my desire for Marisa to be here right now, and to have legit nuddie pics of Naomi and Marisa together, but Marisa's desire to be here right now too, and I'm sure look-alike might want to see LA (although how she'd feel about finishing off a pre 20th century English lit. course, I'm uncertain, at best). It's a win win win "what do you mean you don't know anything about Chaucer?" situation.

Ninja Saturday.

They told me to dress in black for my first day at this new job at Prohibition tonight, so I managed to find a black tshirt and the only pair of black pants that still fit me. I look like a total ninja. It feels wrong. It's called Ninja Wednesday for a reason. Because it's not Saturday. I know I'm going to make a total arse of myself tonight.

At least I have curry with Naomi after I finish to look forward to afterwards. We always go to the grottiest curry house in Leeds, but they make the best curries, and charge you about 5p for it. It's a ritual.