It's been a funny old month so far. Last month, and unaware of the official dryathon thing, some friends and I decided to take the pledge for January. We were all very much under the influence at the time ("I bloody love you I do...No, really, you're my best mate, you are...") so it's amazing that we managed to come to a decision at all and even more amazing that 10 days in, we're still happily trundling along on the temperance wagon.
Knowing my trigger points for reaching for the gin - a day ending in "Y" usually - has been useful, but I have been severely tested this week. David Bowie turning 66 was one and Greggy's elimination was another. Greggy, in case you are blissfully unaware, was a contestant on Cake Boss: Next Great Baker. Camp as a row of tents, Greggy said "like" A LOT and was fluent in emoticon speak: "It was like totes adorbs. I was like face palm, I mean OMG I was like blates jellied." He was completely incomprehensible but I will like totes miss him. Fortunately, a trailer for a new show about Pablo Escobar's errant pet hippos, an every day tale of good hippos gone bad, cheered me up no end and stopped me reaching for the gin bottle.
Dobbers birthday) and have made on many occasions but never for rating purposes. With January being a miserable old month, I hope that this cake will have the required effect on the tasters and put a big smile on their lovely little faces. By the by, the slang term for peanut butter in WW2 was monkey butter. Someone missed a trick here not latching on to this - I think it sounds far more fun. Perhaps 2013 could be the year we bring monkey butter back? Someone get Timberlake on the case.
Right, this cake won't deliver itself. Traaa a bit.