D’ya hear yer man

Some of you may have seen the article I wrote in last week’s paper detailing how I took on and defeated a 15-piece ‘Belly Buster’ fry.

In the headline I was described as Lurgan’s answer to Adam Richman, the star of ‘Man v Food’. While the monster fry seems to have gone to my waistline I think the plaudits may have gone to my head.

On Sunday, while Karen’s mum and dad looked after Lucy, myself and Karen went out for lunch in the White Horse Inn in Saintfield, famed for its generous portions. As you may already have guessed, what should have been a pleasant lunch was turned into a disgraceful display of pig-headed gluttony by yours truly.

Things started out well with my wife and I exchanging chipper chit chat as we perused the menu. After beating the Belly Buster I held no fear for what the chef could throw at me. After much deliberation I ordered risotto for starters and steak and chips for main. Karen ordered a duck salad to begin with then a main of pork fillet with Dauphinoise potatoes. As is tradition we halved all our dishes so we both ended up tasting four meals. For good measure I had two pints of award-winning ale to wash down my food.

After the plates and bowls had been licked clean and both pints emptied I felt comfortably full. That’s when most people would have stopped. But being Lurgan’s answer to Adam Richman I had to go one stage further.

When the waitress returned I ordered the ice cream selection for dessert. When it arrived I was a little concerned that each flavour of ice cream came in its own individual ramekin and included a selection of fruit and jelly. Still, it was only ice cream. If I couldn’t eat of dish of ice cream then I might as well forget about being Lurgan’s answer to the ‘Man v Food’ man. In fact, if I couldn’t eat a ‘wee’ bowl of ice cream I might as well surrender my status as a man.

Things didn’t go according to plan. The chipper chit chat that had punctuated the first two courses was replaced by lots of moans and groans and general exclamations of overfullness. While I struggled through the dessert I was hoping the ice cream would eventually melt and hide the fact I was incapable of finishing it. Unfortunately, the strawberries, blackberries and jelly still had to be eaten. To rub salt in the wound Karen was making short work of a sticky toffee pudding.

In the end I couldn’t finish the dessert. Food proved to be the victor in this round of Man v Food, leaving the overall score at 1-1 - a disappointing draw.

Karen took great pleasure in telling all who would listen that she’d quite easily managed three courses, while I had to lie down in an unbuttoned heap after four scoops of ice cream tipped me over the edge.

However, as the winner of a previous eating challenge I applied the letter of the law to disqualify my wife despite her having finished all three of her mammoth courses. Because Karen is pregnant it stands to reason that all the food that enters her body is being digested by two people. Using that logic, I disqualified her for using outside assistance in much the same way as I’d have been disqualified if I was smuggling food to a dog hidden under the table.

Some would say I was being very harsh, but eating is a very messy business. Especially when I’m involved.

Network unavailable

O2 went down again at the weekend. Although I’m on O2 and am in a perfectly legitimate position to complain I think it’s a good thing that my mobile phone network is prone to crashing.

Firstly, it gives people a ready made excuse if they’ve forgotten to call or text somebody.

Secondly, sporadic network blackouts might actually lead to people picking up the house phone and manually dialling the number of the person they wish to talk to.

Then, heaven forbid, they might even sit down in a comfy chair and carry out a relaxed conversation instead of trying to chat on a mobile while doing their weekly shop.

Weekly teaser

The answer to last week’s teaser was: the numbers are in alphabetical order.

Here’s this week’s teaser: Three friends check in at a cheap hostel and are told their beds will cost £10 each so they pay £30. Later the receptionist realises she should have only charged them £25. She gives a porter £5 to return to them but the porter is dishonest and gives them each only £1, keeping £2 for himself. So the men actually spent £9 each (£27) and the bellboy kept £2. What happened to the other pound of the original £30?