Archive for October, 2005
Possibly the most important news of the year
Posted on October 27, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Humour, Technology.
Not only was my idea for a WD-40 straw retainer commercialised by someone else, now this:
I’m booking my flight to Vegas as I type.
[tags]wd40, wd-40, vegas[/tags]
No Comments
Sweeeeettttttttt Caroline
Posted on October 24, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Friends, Pictures.
I raced back to Bandon from Ballymaloe, jumped into the interview suit, thanked Mary and Claire for risking their mental health by minding our four for two days and shot off with wife riding shotgun to Killarney. The Cork-Killarney road is now my most hated road in the country. 30 mph from Crookstown to a few miles outside Ballyvourney.
We arrived about 30 minutes before the meal was due to start. Caroline was looking fantastic. Not for nothing that she had most of the Class of 1990 UCD Elec Eng competing for her attention way back when. None of us are bitter that she married a teacher and part-time rock star, no not a bit, not a jot. Dave himself looked pretty damned delish - even to a confirmed heterosexual like myself.
This picture shows the bride in full flight.Take it from me that Dave looks just as good from the front.
We are now at that age where we only see batches of the old gang at weddings and special occasions. Caroline had gathered a fine selection of engineering misfits and their partners and we got on to our usual topics as if we had seen each other only yesterday.
As the wedding started so early, most people were well-on by the time we arrived. My awesome capability for alcohol meant that I had caught up after a pint.
I had been talking to Claire, Dee, Paul, Brian, Conor and Maria before I finally refocused to realise that the room we were in had one fantastic view. I only managed to get a picture of it on Monday in lashing rain but it is still pretty wonderful:
The meal was spot-on, the cake was fab and I loved the wine. I was too bloated to move after that.
First picture is of the final two contestants in the Bernard Manning Lookalike contest (with Paul there for scale):
The entertainment then began and the band turned out to be the best damned wedding band of all time. I am not bloody joking. The lead singer looked like Jennifer Ellison and absolutely nailed “River Deep, Mountain High”. I did not want them to stop. I forced Wifey up for a few dances but sadly my belly gave severe head injuries to several small children and the dance floor had to be evacuated.
We had a great old catch-up session and realised that the men are all still as immature as we were in Ios when we put laxatives in Tom’s cocktails and shaved Paul’s legs. The women folk are just lucky to have us 
Maria tells Conor-Dub that he was always her favourite Conor.
Eoin tells me that he has his hand on my wife’s ass. Catherine is clearly impressed.
Aoife says “pregnancy munchies me? I don’t think so. Hands off, they’re all mine”
Jill tries to give Conor a hug and convince him that he doesn’t need to lose weight. Her arms won’t fit around.
That picture causes Conor to go on the GI diet and give up drink until Christmas. Starting tomorow, I swear…….
D’Wife faded at around midnight and I started getting dopey around 1am. I looked around and Paul was asleep in a chair, Brian was gone (presumably to bed), Conor-Dub ditto, so I hit the sack. Turns out the boys were only re-charging their batteries and kept going until 5am! I missed the singing session and the DJ. I could say that they make me feel old but I’ve always loved my bed. My sources (Maria) tell me that Caroline and Dave also headed to bed around 5, but not before Caroline had asked Maria if she could borrow her “OK” magazine. Hot stuff in the wedding suite alright.
The following morning, we grabbed breakfast around 10am and they all started apearing just as breakfast ended. I felt grand, Conor-Dub looked like he was still drunk and Brian appeared not to have slept at all. So a successful wedding by all measures.
It looks like we are nearly out of weddings now. A few stragglers left (Mark, Mark, calling Mark). We could try and badger Quigs and Lolly but I don’t think they are for turning. So next thing will be the 40ths and then (oh, it pains me to even think it), the 20 year reunion.
So Caroline and Dave - well done, we’re chuffed you finally did the deed. Enjoy Prague and then enjoy Bishopstown even more.
The excess of booze means I took only a tiny few photos. They are all in the Flickr Photo Set of the Wedding here. If anyone has other pictures of the day that they want to share, feel free to mail them to me and I’ll add them to the set.
Tomorrow, the story of our Sunday in Killarney.
UPDATE 1: Maria has sent on a bunch of much higher quality pictures. They are in the Flickr photo-set now too.
[tags]“Caroline’s Wedding”, Killarney, Weddings [/tags]
No Comments
Hugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Conor
Posted on October 24, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Cooking, Food.
The long awaited day finally arrived last saturday. For my Christmas present last year, the world’s best wife got me a place at Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s “Pig in A Day” course in Ballymaloe Cookery School. I hared it over to Shanagarry early on Saturday and arrived just in time.
In my gormless naivete, I thought it would be an up-close-and-personal session with maybe 6-10 people. It never struck me that this was not financially feasible. So a big shock awaited me when I entered and found approx 60 people all seated watching Hugh prep. Poor muggins ended up down the back - hence the brutal quality of the photos.
The title of the session was “A Pig in a day with Hugh and Ray”. Ray being the butcher guy who made several appearences on River Cottage. It was a very well oiled double act with Ray doing the butchery of the pig and Hugh doing the cooking.
The demo-kitchen in Ballymaloe was fantastic. Huge long worktop where they did their work, with a giant angled mirror behind so you could see everything and then two monitors focussed on the worktop. Even the two boys were impressed.
I was very surprised to then see that Darina was staying for the entire day’s session. She did a huge amount - helping, querying, guiding prompting and taking notes. All male heads turned at once about half way through when Rachel appeared to have a quick word with Darina.
I was a little disappointed that they did not start with a full pig but the reasoning was that they could achieve more in the day if some of the basics were already done (head removed, brains out ect). The pig was one of Darina’s organic boyos who had been slaughtered and hung in Midleton on the Wednesday.
First off was a general discussion on the anatomy of the pig and how Ray intended cutting it up. I knew zero about where all the bits were until then (ok apart from maybe the trotters and the tail). He then started taking it apart with great skill whilst Hugh started on the Brawn. This is basically the head cut in four and boiled with a bunch of veg for a few hours. I never got to see the final result but the idea is that the meat is then stripped off the bones and a kind of rough terrine made.
Once Ray had the loins ready they were given a spicy rub and popped into the oven for our lunch. Something very smutty about that last line.
Then onto the pork liver terrine. Here the mincer was brought into action (”I’m free Mrs Sloacombe”) and a mix made of pork offcuts, liver, and spices. This was put in a terrine pot lined with bacon and then put in a bain-marie.
All the while, the two lads were extremely entertaining, informative and their enthusiasm was infectious. I took a bunch of photos at coffee break as the ones up until then had all been rubbish.
Then they moved onto one of the main reasons I was there - sausage making! I bought a Kenwood Chef with mincer attachment and sausage making kit last year and have yet to use it. Fear mixed with total cluelessness about where I would get the sausage casings were the main reasons. A long session ensued with the discussion on the contents of the mix taking a lot of the time. This was a big interactive session with several people trying their hand at making the actual sausages. One guy even made a good stab at doing the butcher style linking of loads of them.
At that point they answered one of my questions - don’t ask your local butcher for casings as you are basically implying that you think you can do a better job of sausage making than him. Hugh highly recommended The Natural Casing Company in the UK. I emailed them today to check on postage to Ireland and mentioned the fact that I had been on a Hugh course. They replied, thanking me for explaining why they got so many calls from Ireland today! My order for Hog Casings is going in tomorrow.
As we ran towards lunch, Hugh decided to quickly cook up two things which cause many people to wince - kidneys and brains. Kidneys first - he challenged anyone in the audience who thought they did not like kidneys (and there were many) to try his devilled ones. I don’t mind kidneys at all and these ones were wonderful with a huge kick of cayenne.
He then asked if anyone wanted to try brains. My hand shot up. No way I was mising an opportunity to quote George Romero. He had boiled them earlier and now fried them. But a pigs brain is quite small (”mmm,mud”) and there was a melee with people trying to get a taste and I ended up getting none. So no prions for me then.
We then broke for lunch which was superb. Starter was pea and mint soup which was the nicest I have ever eaten. Main was built around the pork loin which had the nicest crackling of all time. But with this went some of the sausages from earlier (predicted to be bland as they should really sit for a day; they were), salad and some salamis from the Gubbeen Smokehouse in Schull. I’ve had these salamis before and they are gorgeous. Fingal Ferguson, the maker, was there and Darina asked him to tell us what each type was. I was scanning the room to see which old geezer was talking - it turned out to be the guy who looked about 15 years old just ahead of me. Young whippersnapper making me feel un-accomplished!
The crowd was interesting. The usual batch of know-it-all foodies who only asked questions so they could let us all know how much they knew. Four pig farmers. A lot of Brits (Hugh groupies?) and a bunch of pretty average nobodies like myself.
One guy had bugged me through the session - always talking, questioning, interrupting; Talked like pure D4; Haircut from Toni & Guy; name dropping Allen family members. Hated him. Of course I ended up sitting at the same table as him. He never stopped talking at lunch, and the more he talked the more I liked him. All of the “annoying” attributes were just youthful enthusiasm. Then someone at the table asked him how “Cully & Sully” was doing. I wondered how this person knew him. So I finally looked at the name-tag: “Cullen Allen, Ballymaloe House”. Ah for jaysus sake, he lives here, he is one of them. Now it all made sense. And I liked him even more.
Cully & Sully is a fabulous business idea and I think they will be very successful. If you are a pub in the Cork region and want high-quality hot food that you can serve but only have a toaster and a microwave, then give these guys a call. Their sous-vide food sounds great - I’m going to try and find their one customer in Clon soon. They hope to have some in Bandon in the near future.
I had a great chat with another guy at the table who was also there because his wife had bought it for him. But he was a really interesting character as he rears pigs the “usual” way - i.e. industrial production. He was actually a down-shifter who had left corporate life, bought a pig-farm in Tullow and was doing very well and loving his new way of life.
We both agreed that there were serious issues to address if he was to even consider looking at the “Hugh way”. His costs would go through the roof and unless he could somehow find another sales channel, he had no way of differentiating his pork/bacon from anyone else. As he said “to the average punter, a rasher is a rasher”. He quoted the Rudd’s example of someone trying to build a premium bacon business - they went bust. I mentioned that the big advantage that Hugh or Jimmy Doherty have in the UK is population density. Even if you sent up a farm shop in the countryside over there, your potential local market is far bigger than anything you would have here. Lots of food for thought.
I knew from the start of the day that I was leaving early to get down to Caroline’s wedding in Killarney but I was hoping to see either the Chorizo or the air-dryed ham preparation. I was gutted when Darina announced that the afternoon session was not starting until 2.45 which was only a few mins before I was going to leave. So I had to make my excuses and head back to Bandon.
But that was one bloody brilliant (can’t find more expressive terms) morning. I learned tons. I wrestled with the “could I do that for a living?” question. I think I answered it - “not unless I win the lotto”. I saw bits of an animal that very few people get to or want to see. And finally, I saw that Darina Allen is a force of nature - long may she succeed.
I have a Flickr Photo Set of the day here. Quality is pretty low!
Whew, now for the wedding………
9 Comments
Ein Klein Nacht-Essen
Posted on October 19, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Restaurants, Reviews.
I’m really hitting the limit of my thirty words of German. Until recently, my experience of German cuisine has been limited to halbe-hanchen mit frites, Curry Wurst and Kartoffelklösse. And ya know, when booze is involved, there is nothing better. But as I mentioned in my recent review, Otto has changed my view of German cooking forever.
Last weekend caused me to add several inches to my girth when the parents took me out on Friday and then they baby-sat on Saturday so myself and Catherine could go out.
So first the Friday and down for my second trip to Otto’s with big sis and the old pair. However bad the cab journey was the first time, this was ten times worse with pea-soup fog. By the time we got there, Fi was green around the gills. Otto kindly made her a cup of peppermint tea which did the trick. The food was, once again, fabulous. To start, I had three types of smoked fish - Salmon, Mackerel and Tuna. The tuna was particularly lovely and reminded me of sashimi. Da had the same and the two women had a selection of dips which looked yum.
Mains were pretty lovely too. My venison was a little rich for my taste but was cooked and seasoned beautifully. 4 x Pear and Plum compote rounded off a great meal. The brutal weather and early winter darkness meant we couldn’t go for a walk afterwards. All are talking about the return trip already.
On Saturday, Catherine and I took a cab for our second visit to Casino House in Kilbrittain. This is a far more formal setting than Otto’s and I guess they are aiming maybe for a Michelin star.
The starters were a goat’s cheese salad for Catherine and terrine for me. Both executed well but neither really overflowing with flavour. The polenta on Catherines added nothing to the taste and made the dish too heavy.
Mains were a trio of fish for me - Hake, Sole and Swordfish. Beautifully cooked and very nice but again just a bit too subtle. Maybe that ten years of smoking in my twenties has killed too many taste buds. Catherine had monkfish and found the sauce too heavy and cloying. Desserts were yum but the lack of a star choccie dessert got negative marks from Cath.
The service did give us a good laugh as we had a young girl who was on her first night and was struggling. She was very friendly and attentive but I had to bite my lip when she told me that my dessert consisted of a pear compost and pear sorbeT.
Maybe we were just unlucky with our choices but nothing leaped out at us. The last time was far more memorable. But I don’t want to sound overly critical because the cooking is done with great skill and the value is fantastic compared to Dublin. It is also a great spot for B&B to tour the area (as is Otto’s).
I’d recommend both to anyone who wants a bit of a treat. And the huge advantage they both have over restaurants in Dublin is the absence of poseurs. Both were full of “normal” people who appreciate good food.
Guten Appetit!
No Comments
Repentent ex-Citroëniste
Posted on October 18, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Family, Reviews.
Bless me father for I have sinned. It has been four years since my last Citroën.
My first car was a Citroën BX which I bought off my sister for £2000 in about 1992. A complete and utter piece of crap. God I loved that car. A month after I bought it, I discovered the front sub-frame was rusted through and needed to be replaced. That cost over a grand and after that the car sat pointing towards the sky. I also replaced the carbuerettor to improve fuel economy and succeeded in getting it from 20 mpg to 21 mpg. It had some big problem with air temperature too and would choke and die after an hours driving or so. But dammit it was fabulous. Supremely comfortable, utterly ergnomic and very fast for a 1.6 due to the use of plastic for the boot and bonnet and roof. The dashboard was the old style with non-cancelling indicators and sliders and switches where others would have stalks. In a later revamp they removed it to make it more “normal”. Fools. But eventually it had to go. Rust started winning and the fuel thirst was bankrupting me.
A generic BX:
Of course the ultimate would have been a DS or CX but they would definitely have left me penniless. So I went mainsteam and got a 1.1 AX. Not a bad wee motor. Again quite fast for a small engine due to the use of tin foil where others would have used actual steel. So a death trap but a perfectly fine appliance for a few years. It’s fatal flaw lay in the electrics and it randomly needed a push start in the morning. Luckily our car-port was on a hill and I could usually do it myself.
Someone else’s AX:
As the pay improved, I set my sights higher and got a 1.6 Xantia. This was a schizophrenic car, being both classically a Citroen with hydropneumatic suspension and nice ergnomic touches but very mainstream in styling. Unfortunately, it was way too heavy and the 1.6 was not powerful enough. But like the BX it was fabulously comfortable and great for long distance driving. It didn’t really have too many flaws but was getting old and the lack of over-taking ability was a big problem.
A random Xantia:
With the windfall I got in 2000 from the Integral sale, I could finally afford to buy a new car. I waited with bated breath for pictures of the Xantia replacement to appear. Expectations were high. Finally I bought my monthly copy of CAR (every month since I was 14 years old - how sad is that?) and there it was, the C5, the dog, the car designed by a blind person, the guppy on wheels, the travesty.
Avert your eyes:
And so I bought the perfectly sensible car for a man with a wife and kid - a Ford Mondeo. Now don’t get me wrong, it is a great car. Inoffensive looking, very fast, very comfortable, reliable and handles beautifully. I paid extra for the ESP and it has saved my life on more than one occasion. Without it, there would be a little cross remembering me on the way out of Clifden. I was booting it after Paul Sheehy’s wedding when I lost it at 40 mph on a newly gritted road. As the rear end headed towards the rockface at the side of the road, ESP kicked in, straightened the car out and off I went. Whew.
Any old Mondeo:
But, but, but the local taxi driver has the same car as me. The car was designed by the same guy who did the last VW Passat. It is a total clone, down to the pattern of the material on the inside of the door. It is an appliance. It does not move me the way a car should move me. I still smile every time I see an old Citroen or a modern Alfa or something rarer like a Lotus or Porsche or Ferrari. I will never forget thumbing from Stuttgart to Munich with Pat Reidy in 1988 to catch a flight home to repeat 2nd Eng exams. We were not given a lift by a passing Porsche 959. But the joy of seeing one in motion. Ahhhhhh. Eventually we got a lift from a hippie in a Beetle - a car the 959 can trace its genes back to.
So, the Mondeo is fine and I’ll probably drive it until it falls apart. It actually no longer makes sense as it cannot take the whole family now. So it’ll be replaced either with something small and commutey like a Civic (but a Type-R :-)) or something deeply obnoxious like a second-hand Range Rover.
But then I saw pictures, the like of which I thought would never come again. The new Citroën C6 on Autoblog
Oh my dear god, I have to have one of these. Images of De Gaulle and The Jackal floating through my head. André Citroën has stopped spinning in his grave. Citroën is back and let us all cheer. Style, real style is back baby.
The Telegraph has a review of it too: Citroën a Grande Vitesse
2 Comments
Harness Racing not just for Dublin Skangers
Posted on October 18, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Family.
Two weeks ago I spotted a sign near our house for “All Ireland Harness Racing” in Barryroe, about 10 miles down towards the coast. I had missed a lot of the local events in the latter part of the summer, so I figured this might be a bit of fun for us all to check out.
We headed down with C&T following in their car. Just as we were about to fall into the Atlantic, we turned into a huge field which, according to my map, is very near the townland of Turkeyland. We are still not sure if this is where the guys who built the Ballincollig bypass live or if it is a refuge for abused poultry.
In any case, we parked the car and proceeded to wade through an un-ending river of cow shit. Now I lived opposite a farm until I was six, so a bit of cow crap doesn’t faze me at all. But in my memory, all of the cow-pats were rock hard with flys all over them. This stuff was still steaming. We sprinted across the track to the central visitor area which was a big pleasant surprise. They had an ice-cream van, a chipper, bouncy castles and bookies! Way more professional than I expected.
Since I spent the first few years of my life living near Fairyhouse, I have always enjoyed horse racing and this was no exception. In fact it is far more exciting than your average races. The only thing between you and the horses is a blue rope, the trotting speed is phenomenal and the races are over very quickly. Oisín was rivetted by it and spent his time hanging out of the rope watching the horses bomb past at high speed.
The skill of the jockeys was incredible, particularly a young lad whose debut it was and who could barely have been 12 years old. Watching him control a massive animal at that speed and not come last on his first outing was mightily impressive.
So I think this will be an annual family event for us (if they are actually running it there every year).
Two quick piccies to show the two styles of trotting:
Oh, maybe we were the Dublin skangers…….
No Comments
Man Friday not so Hot on Monday
Posted on October 18, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Food, Restaurants, Reviews.
I was recently out on a business dinner with some Dutch customers to “Man Fridays” in Kinsale. This appears to be one of the most famous restaurants in Kinsale and is nestled in a fabulous location overlooking the harbour. Parking in that part of Kinsale was, as ever, a nightmare. I eventually strapped two dinghys to my car and moored it off the promenade.
Overall I was very disappointed with the food but the Dutch guys loved it, so go figure. It is strictly old-school with very heavy-handed dishes and massive portions. But it was jammed on a Monday night in October so they clearly know their clientele.
One of the guys rated his creme brulee as the best he has ever eaten. But then this is from a race of people who’s favourite snack is kroket. Imagine a potato croquette but filled with a puree of meat-offcuts. Imagine a giant big……no, forget that, it’ll put you off your tea.
They always slather them in mustard, presumably to kill both the taste and the smell.
It looks a little bit like this:
So in summary; Man Friday’s - the best restaurant for kroket lovers in Ireland.
If you do visit the Netherlands, don’t forget to ask “Zijn er ook bitterballen?”.
5 Comments
Six Go Mad in Macclesfield
Posted on October 13, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Family.
We finally bit the bullet and took a trip to Frank, Helen and the two boys in Macclesfield en famille. The six of us headed down to Cork airport last saturday morning bright and early.
The Servisair genius at check-in put us in three separate rows. She was either as thick as two short planks or bitter over her fabulous career. Either way, Catherine had Fionn, I had Ois & Shibs and poor Oscar had to sit on his own for take-off. We managed to get on the plane without too much hassle. I’m sure there were plenty of dagger looks into the backs of our heads with people muttering “did they have to bring alllll their children?” and “would they ever hurry the fuck up and sit down”. I know I do when I’m travelling alone.
We then realised the plane was half-empty so I was tempted to get off the plane and bitch-slap the cow at check-in. But the very nice BMI Baby ladies on the plane let us move around after take off. I think Osc was secretly delighted that he was in his own row, particularly when I told him that I was 14 before I flew anywhere.
The flight passed without incident apart from Oisín insisting he needed a slash as we were landing. They wouldn’t let us move and I started seriously wondering how much urine the puke bags might take before bursting. But the wee star held on until the terminal.
We got a Corolla Verso which is very swish inside compared to the Zafira but a bit smaller so the bags were a squeeze. I had printed out AA route instructions door to door and headed off confident that the trip would take 30-40 minutes even if Catherine fulfills the “women can’t read maps or directions” stereotype perfectly.
As we approached the exit roundabout, we saw a sign for the first town we needed to get to, but when we reached the roundabout, it was nowhere to be found on any of the signs. Panic. Take wrong exit. U-Turn, take another exit, damn damn we’re on a motorway, no fuck, I don’t want to go to Birmingham, or poxing Sheffield, exit exit. OK, we’re on the A34, that sounds familiar. Bugger, wrong direction, another U-Turn, sign for Wilmslow, hurrah my built-in compass managed to get us on the correct road without having any clue what direction I was pointing in or where Macclesfield actually is.
Highlight of the car trip was seeing “The Cock Inn”. Someday we’ll get the opportunity to stop near there and ask someone “How far is the cock inn?”. Yep, all the maturity of a 12 year old.
We then passed thorough Over Alderley, Upper Alderley, Nether Alderley, Mini-Alderley, Semi-Alderley, Under Alderley, High Alderley and Congleton (pronounced “Maudelin”). About 1.5 hours later we arrived. We hadn’t seen James since he was a squirt and he has turned into a strapping young 3-year old boy. We’d never seen Mattie and he is a wee bundle of grins and took to us all like old friends.
Constant rain meant we couldn’t really go anywhere but we were happy to hang out and catch up. Our monsters were happy to demolish the other kids playroom. Oisín thought he had died and gone to heaven when he saw the box full of Thomas trains.
The main thing that always strikes me about the UK is that all of the old bits are of such fabulous quality - the houses, the roads, the playgrounds, the parks. It’s a pity the new bits from the 60’s onwards all look so cheap and nasty.
A night of lovely food and booze ensued after a bracing walk in the lashing rain to a playground.
Conor woke up the following morning feeling like one of the children was jumping up and down on his head. In the voice of Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons “Worst Hangover, ever”. Can I just offer my undying gratitude to the creator of Ponstan?
Helen stuffed us again with yum food and we headed off early afternoon. We made a half-arsed attempt to find Old Trafford and failed. We both got a tingle of fear/excitement when we saw a sign for Moss Side. Oooh, are we in a bad area? Ooh, scary pyjamas.
Of course the damned flight was delayed but our gang behaved quite well despite them not being able to understand how you could get a burger and not get a toy. We arrived back on Sunday around 10:30pm. Exhausted and kinda chuffed at how well it had all gone.
Big Thanks to the Manc Crew for putting up with us. Twas a brave offer to invite us over. We’ll do it all again when they are in college.
3 Comments
Quick Health Round-Up on Stomachs and Nuts
Posted on October 6, 2005, by Conor O'Neill, under Health.
Run off my feet this week so blogging has been even lighter than usual. Two health related stories caught my eye:
Discoverers of H.Pylori get Nobel Prize
This is fantastic. I’ve had the treatment and unfortunately it appears I am in the 10% for whom the little bastard bacteria are not the problem. My problem is more likely to be Curry, Coffee and Sauvignon Blanc.
The discovery that Helicobacter Pylori is responsible for the majority of stomach ulcers is often used by the alternative medicine brigade to beat up “traditional” medicine. It was originally found in 1982 but it took until the late 90’s before it became accepted as fact. Treatment is a simple three way drug course for two weeks (two anti-biotics and Nexium - the stomach drug of the gods).
The quacks would claim that mainstream medicine tried to suppress it as they are all in thrall to the drug companies and one dose of three drugs generates a lot less income than a lifetime on Tagamet or Zantac. In fact, mainstream medicine simply insisted that proper scientific testing was done on the hypothesis (including the dreaded double-blind testing that most alternative medicines fall down on). After years of research and testing and trials, it was proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that H Pylori is the baddie in most cases (not over-active acid-producing cells). Most doctors now send those suffering from bad stomach complaints for a test and then treat accordingly.
Yayy Science!!
Shock horror. C’est pas possible? I’m dumbfounded. Smashing your nuts against a hard bicycle seat over long periods causes damage? It took research to figure this out?
Best quote in the article “there are only two kinds of male cyclists - those who are impotent and those who will be impotent”.
I got a bike last year and did quite a few short blasts around the locality early in the morning. This year has been a disaster and I’ve only been out a few times. I should really take it back up again. It’d be a damn sight cheaper than the snip……..Ah bugger, I got impotent and sterile confused again, didn’t I?
No Comments
