Manners please, you’re at my table
Dear readers, welcome back to my world of perfect homosexual domesticity for all, that’s right, even the straights, because we are very inclusive here. Normal service has resumed after a political few weeks in these pages. As much as I believe in affirmative political action, we simply cannot further our cause without a perfectly laid table and exemplary etiquette. Those of you in the UK who don’t live in a whole in the ground, will have noticed the recent circus made by the media over a survey of the nations eating habits.
I can hardly say I am surprised by the results. We threw away any hope of maintaining a civilized society when the middle classes stopped dreaming of sending their daughters to Finishing Schools and resorted to ITV2 programs like “From Ladette to Lady” to learn proper etiquette. Now only the very rich attend these venerable institutions, which inevitably fail them because the rich have still not worked out nothing is more vulgar than being rich, charity not training can only solve that problem.
However, I digress. I hardly dare go to a restaurant these days for fear of being scolded by flying Lobster Bisque or witnessing some oaf land their chubby elbow in a red onion & stilton tart. Well, dear readers, on this rare occasion the papers are correct. As a nation we are lost in culinary obscurity. We have forgotten how to eat and enjoy the process, instead we fuel up in the most efficient manner possible, abandoning taste, texture, variety on the palate, the tension between flavors, aroma and of course the power a good glass of wine has to make or break a meal. I accept that there is not always time to prepare a full three course meal if one is heading out to, say the Opera, but to make a regular habit of dining on food from plastic wrappers bought only to fill the hole in your stomach and not enlighten your sole is sad way to live ones life, in fact you may as well pack up and fuck off to Hull or a nasty suburb somewhere with a KFC handy for your vile tastes! Dear readers, the gay housewife has no place for instant food.
In my previous columns regarding where it is acceptable for the gay House wife to both live and shop you will have noticed shops and areas fresh, organic, fairly traded produce are readily available have been championed. One shop that has not been mentioned but is often found in many a pleasant area is Marks and Spencer’s. This, my dear readers, is because I believe M&S is at the forefront of the nations failure to up hold its previously high standards in etiquette. For my dear readers further ashore than Britain and main-land Europe, it is hard to explain Marks and Spencer’s because it is less a shop and more a British institution gone wrong. It is best explained as a department store with a supermarket in the basement. And it is this basement supermarket I blame for our nations failure.
M&S have made it dangerously easy for us to convince ourselves we are eating quality food made conveniently available in attractive packaging. To take a look at the average menu from Marks and Spencer’s, you can buy steak, with ready prepared sauce for twice the price of your local organic butchers, you can buy ready-mashed potatoes for £3.20 and a ready prepared chocolate mouse for four times the cost of a bit sugar, eggs, cream and coco. All of this food tumbles out the microwave and on to the plate, and where do people eat it – ON THEIR SOFAS!! I know, I was disgusted to find this too. Had I been caught eating on a sofa at finishing school I would have been booted out with no hope of appeal. However, it is not just M&S who are to blame for this inexcusable drop in standards. Even my dear Waitroes is guilty of selling, I darkly write the word, ready-meals.
Gay Housewives of the world, your respective countries need you to save them from descending into culinary anarchy! Britains and Americans how did we get it so wrong and my dear Europeans how did you get it so rite? In Spain you have the siesta to sleep of lunch, in some parts of France you have the two hour lunch break, in Germany the staff canteen is full of epicurean delights, in Italy anything you eat sets a fire of excitement in your stomach and what do we have? Marks and Fucking Spencers!
We need to bring delight back to our tables, palate and noses and once more make eating a social occasion, not just a stop at the fuel pump of the stomach. If we all spent more time eating at an actual table, instead of off our knees people might know it is an offence to put your elbows on the table, chew loudly or with your fucking mouth open! Dear god the less educated may even learn the difference between a butter and a fish knife if we really try! But small steps first, Poof, Lezzies, Breeders, cook your man or woman a good meal tonight, eat it at the table, maybe try some advanced items of cutlery, keep your elbows of the table cloth and for god sake put your fork in your left hand! To motivate you in your quest I leave you with some rather terrifying statistics! Together, with gay homemaking we can save the world from slobbery!
Percentage of those Questioned Admitted to:
Holding fork in right hand 73% What did their mothers teach them?
Elbows on Table 67% Would they put their feet or buttocks on the table too?
Failing to remain at the table
while everyone is eating 67% Just plane rude
Eating Straight out of packaging 64% Common, probably from Hull
Talking with mouth full 36% We may be busy but there is enough time to both talk and chew
Using fingers to scoop up
last bits of food 34% Ever heard of bread?
Pointing at someone with knife/fork 27% Having never seen this happen I can only imagine the horror!
Burping at Table 25% Would they fart in public too?
Licking plate clean 24% Again, ever heard of bread
Blowing nose on napkin 20% Does no one have monogrammed handkerchiefs anymore?
Putting too much food in mouth 20% We’re people, not dogs
Forgetting to than host for meal 19% I would throw the offending cunt from polite society
Not knowing what cutlery to use 19% I wouldn’t dine at my table if I were in this position!
Throwing food at across table 8% Isn’t that what monkeys do?
Love to you all,
(m)Arthur
Say hello at MySpace or email me.
Dear readers, welcome back to my world of perfect homosexual domesticity for all, that’s right, even the straights, because we are very inclusive here. Normal service has resumed after a political few weeks in these pages. As much as I believe in affirmative political action, we simply cannot further our cause without a perfectly laid table and exemplary etiquette. Those of you in the UK who don’t live in a whole in the ground, will have noticed the recent circus made by the media over a survey of the nations eating habits.
I can hardly say I am surprised by the results. We threw away any hope of maintaining a civilized society when the middle classes stopped dreaming of sending their daughters to Finishing Schools and resorted to ITV2 programs like “From Ladette to Lady” to learn proper etiquette. Now only the very rich attend these venerable institutions, which inevitably fail them because the rich have still not worked out nothing is more vulgar than being rich, charity not training can only solve that problem.
However, I digress. I hardly dare go to a restaurant these days for fear of being scolded by flying Lobster Bisque or witnessing some oaf land their chubby elbow in a red onion & stilton tart. Well, dear readers, on this rare occasion the papers are correct. As a nation we are lost in culinary obscurity. We have forgotten how to eat and enjoy the process, instead we fuel up in the most efficient manner possible, abandoning taste, texture, variety on the palate, the tension between flavors, aroma and of course the power a good glass of wine has to make or break a meal. I accept that there is not always time to prepare a full three course meal if one is heading out to, say the Opera, but to make a regular habit of dining on food from plastic wrappers bought only to fill the hole in your stomach and not enlighten your sole is sad way to live ones life, in fact you may as well pack up and fuck off to Hull or a nasty suburb somewhere with a KFC handy for your vile tastes! Dear readers, the gay housewife has no place for instant food.
In my previous columns regarding where it is acceptable for the gay House wife to both live and shop you will have noticed shops and areas fresh, organic, fairly traded produce are readily available have been championed. One shop that has not been mentioned but is often found in many a pleasant area is Marks and Spencer’s. This, my dear readers, is because I believe M&S is at the forefront of the nations failure to up hold its previously high standards in etiquette. For my dear readers further ashore than Britain and main-land Europe, it is hard to explain Marks and Spencer’s because it is less a shop and more a British institution gone wrong. It is best explained as a department store with a supermarket in the basement. And it is this basement supermarket I blame for our nations failure.
M&S have made it dangerously easy for us to convince ourselves we are eating quality food made conveniently available in attractive packaging. To take a look at the average menu from Marks and Spencer’s, you can buy steak, with ready prepared sauce for twice the price of your local organic butchers, you can buy ready-mashed potatoes for £3.20 and a ready prepared chocolate mouse for four times the cost of a bit sugar, eggs, cream and coco. All of this food tumbles out the microwave and on to the plate, and where do people eat it – ON THEIR SOFAS!! I know, I was disgusted to find this too. Had I been caught eating on a sofa at finishing school I would have been booted out with no hope of appeal. However, it is not just M&S who are to blame for this inexcusable drop in standards. Even my dear Waitroes is guilty of selling, I darkly write the word, ready-meals.
Gay Housewives of the world, your respective countries need you to save them from descending into culinary anarchy! Britains and Americans how did we get it so wrong and my dear Europeans how did you get it so rite? In Spain you have the siesta to sleep of lunch, in some parts of France you have the two hour lunch break, in Germany the staff canteen is full of epicurean delights, in Italy anything you eat sets a fire of excitement in your stomach and what do we have? Marks and Fucking Spencers!
We need to bring delight back to our tables, palate and noses and once more make eating a social occasion, not just a stop at the fuel pump of the stomach. If we all spent more time eating at an actual table, instead of off our knees people might know it is an offence to put your elbows on the table, chew loudly or with your fucking mouth open! Dear god the less educated may even learn the difference between a butter and a fish knife if we really try! But small steps first, Poof, Lezzies, Breeders, cook your man or woman a good meal tonight, eat it at the table, maybe try some advanced items of cutlery, keep your elbows of the table cloth and for god sake put your fork in your left hand! To motivate you in your quest I leave you with some rather terrifying statistics! Together, with gay homemaking we can save the world from slobbery!
Percentage of those Questioned Admitted to:
Holding fork in right hand 73% What did their mothers teach them?
Elbows on Table 67% Would they put their feet or buttocks on the table too?
Failing to remain at the table
while everyone is eating 67% Just plane rude
Eating Straight out of packaging 64% Common, probably from Hull
Talking with mouth full 36% We may be busy but there is enough time to both talk and chew
Using fingers to scoop up
last bits of food 34% Ever heard of bread?
Pointing at someone with knife/fork 27% Having never seen this happen I can only imagine the horror!
Burping at Table 25% Would they fart in public too?
Licking plate clean 24% Again, ever heard of bread
Blowing nose on napkin 20% Does no one have monogrammed handkerchiefs anymore?
Putting too much food in mouth 20% We’re people, not dogs
Forgetting to than host for meal 19% I would throw the offending cunt from polite society
Not knowing what cutlery to use 19% I wouldn’t dine at my table if I were in this position!
Throwing food at across table 8% Isn’t that what monkeys do?
Love to you all,
(m)Arthur
Say hello at MySpace or email me.

