If you can read this whole story without laughing then there's absolutely no hope for you. I was crying by the end.

Please take time to read this slowly.

For those of you who have lived in Natal , you know how typical this is. They actually have a Curry cook-off about June/July. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the Royal Show in PMB.

Judge #3 was an inexperienced food critic named Frank, who was visiting from America .

Frank: "Recently, I was honoured to be selected as a judge at a Curry Cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking for directions to the beer garden when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges ( Natal Indians) that the curry wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted".

Here are the scorecard notes from the event:


Judge # 1
-- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.
Judge # 2
-- Nice smooth tomato flavour. Very mild.
Judge # 3
(Frank) -- Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway with it. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These people are crazy.


Judge # 1
-- Smoky, with a hint of chicken. Slight chilli tang.
Judge # 2
-- Exciting BBQ flavour, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
Judge # 3
-- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who Wanted to give me the Heimlich manoeuvre! They had to rush in more beer When they saw the look on my face.


Judge # 1
-- Excellent firehouse curry. Great kick.
Judge # 2
-- A bit salty, good use of chilli peppers.
Judge # 3
-- Call 911. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drain Cleaner. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting pissed from all the beer.


Judge # 1
-- Black bean curry with almost no spice. Disappointing.
Judge # 2
-- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a curry.
Judge # 3
-- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Shareen, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 200kg woman is starting to look HOT...just like this nuclear waste I'm eating! Is chilli an aphrodisiac?


Judge # 1
-- Meaty, strong curry. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
Judge # 2
-- Average beef curry, could use more tomato. Must admit the chilli peppers make a strong statement.
Judge # 3
-- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chilli had given me brain damage. Shareen saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw them.


Judge # 1
-- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety curry. Good balance of spices and peppers.
Judge # 2
-- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
Judge # 3
-- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulphuric flames. I am definitely going to shit myself if I fart and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that Shareen. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my arse with a snow cone ice-cream.


Judge # 1
-- A mediocre curry with too much reliance on canned peppers.
Judge # 2
-- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chilli peppers at the last moment. (I should take note at this stage that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably).
Judge # 3
-- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with curry which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least, during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing - it's too painful. Screw it; I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.


Judge # 1
-- The perfect ending. This is a nice blend curry. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
Judge # 2
-- This final entry is a good, balanced curry. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over and pulled the curry pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor man, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot curry?
Judge # 3
- No Report.


PES... Can. said…
Do you actually know people with a sense of humor that you blog with.
So far I see no ribald titters of mirth appearing on this post.
Read my email and contact me if you wish to. PES.
Vest said…
Vest said...
PES: I do find some are rather stoic and are extremely reserved and fearful of rebukes from others should their comments appear here on this post, These persons give the impression they have professional callings and have a monosyllabic jargon arsenal of non grammatical words (sort of sneaky bilge mainly) used by unemployed journos and defrocked priest, and ambulance chasers just out of jail for graft and such.
Some of the guys are penniless and scratching the earth for subsistence. and most of the others live in a world of pretentiousness and make believe.
But there are a couple of bloggers I get along with OK. also non bloggers.
Sugar said…
Love this...lmafao I was laughin almost instantly, is this a good thing??!!!
My fav comment has to be in reference to Chilli NO.7
"At least, during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing - it's too painful."
Vest said…
Sugar: You Must be English and with a great sense of Humour. Most Australians and Yanks who call here have either lost the feeling in their 'Funny Bone' or are complete failures when confronted with sensible argument.
Then again no one can be as calculatedly rude or funny as the British, which amazes Americans who do not understand studied insult and can only offer abuse as a substitute.
WALLY. said…
Hi Vesty , Mum says your at your best today and sends a big kiss XX.
And I liked the cuurry story, i thought it was great. er ...who is sugar, clicked on but didn't get far.
Vest said…
Hard to say who Sugar is Wally. trying to figure out how to communicate right now. probably more later on this.
Vest said…
Wally:I have been to 'Sugar' blog.
A dead end, so re type the link into Google then you will get a heap of interesting stuff which may amuse you. still don't
get the Sugar person for real.

Hey Sugar. More info please.
Vest said…
It is 6 30pm, the sun is nearly down and with a breeze from the fan, this office S/Brm; has a temp of 32C, Summer will be here in seven weeks. two weeks back we had the heating on.
Today's Menu. Curried non fat chopped chook - bacon and mushroom, with seven mixed veggies. Desert was, jelly - peaches and french vanilla ice cream.
Vest said…
Forty three callers yesterday, only a handful with a sense of humour.
Vest said…
I have been slandered as a racist by a certain bloke from the mountains of NSW, who is another one of life's failures. A been nowhere done nothing donkey head.
This dismal dickhead comes within the categories mentioned in the first of my comments in this post.
Together with his other head problems he could be described as a Bible punching Fascist. Hi 'G'
"Get well soon".
Vest said…
Gerry; Your vividly inaccurate assessments of all things beyond importance and possibility and explained in a manner foreign to the Hoi Polloi are a total pain in the rectum
Here, likewise we're trying desperately to keep the comments above the level of abject stupidity.
Try using every day to day type of discourse, adding the extra Greek or latin word to your otherwise dull mutterings does nothing to enhance it's gormless negativity.
Vest said…
And so finally Gerry was a frigging Car salesman working for John L motors, the one with the big 'No Bull' sign, on the Parramatta road. Little wonder J L topped himself.

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