Battle of the Crisps

Because I am distracted by a) glossy things, b) wacky flavours and c) sodium, I could not resist the lure of the WORLD CUP SERIES: NEW MASSACRES OF DELICIOUSNESS.

Yes. I tried the English Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding. In one casual, sly move, they increased the chances of this sucker winning by an astronomical amount with one simple addition: poultry stock. Yes, it’s true that something labeled as “beef” should probably contain “cow” or at least “red meat juices”. It’s also true that something labeled “cheeseburger” should probably not be vegetarian. Clearly, this was pandering to the homefield crowd, et c. et c. et c. Rogues! Scalliwags!

Anyway, it was kind of licking the outside of a Brisket cooked with Lipton’s Onion Dip packets. So, weirdly alluring, although I kept having this urge to wave a Terrible Towel around and seek out the traditional sour cream dip. The alluring lasted, I’m going to say, five seconds, and then my mouth was all “this was not a wise move, Barr,” and my tongue was all “if you don’t stop eating these, you’ll never love green papaya salad the same way again,” and so I was all, Right, Strange Patriotic Crisps, into the bin you go. BONUS your room will then smell like a Jewish Grandmother’s kitchen, if it was used to cook nothing but brisket for fifteen years.

HINT NOT A BONUS.

Though, props for the Brazilian salsa ones, because I am a glutton for punishment, and those ended up being a legitimate food item I would happily consume, even if remuneration to a store was involved. I had no idea rosemary was Brazilian but hey, since it didn’t involve “offal” or “the parts of the animals we didn’t use up in the German Bratwurst Insanity,” delicious! Totally delicious.

Front page, above the fold

M11 closed after 82 pigs escape on to motorway

An Essex Police spokesman said about 50 of the animals, which each weigh about 20st, are still trapped in the wreckage which is blocking two lanes. The runaway pigs are now grazing on the embankment.

Bring on the emergency St Tiddywinkles rescue brigade!

Wait, wait, nalgenes aren’t classy?

Box wine, guys. Box wine. Alternatively: water? Is this somehow passe? Besides, if you’re traipsing down that path, the woods require real spirits. Real, 276 proof, the kind of booze that nullifies livers, that melts mere glass, that gets you arrested in five countries and fifteen counties….you clearly need the real deal.

Aww, yeah. Oh, wait…

Oh, baby. That’s right: namby-pamby wine flasks can in no way compete with German hunting lodge regalia. Besides, if you wake up next to the chewing, gnashing version of this:

(Via Boingboing)

…you have something to actually throw. Or at least toast Thanatos.

To whom it may concern

So, about that whole future thing…

(Via productdose.com)

Can we just say that this is a viable option for employment and leave me humming happy, fudge-topping thoughts to sleep jingle-stuffed dreams? Bitte?

Economic woes have not yet hit bacon expert market; bangers holding steady and fish and chips connoisseurs worry

AA sniffs out Blighty’s best bacon sarnie

“  The Leeds experts, who toiled for 1,000 hours on 700 bacon sarnie variations, were finally able to offer this formula for hot sliced pork action: N = C + {fb (cm) . fb (tc)} + fb (Ts) + fc . ta, where N=force in Newtons required to break the cooked bacon, fb=function of the bacon type, fc=function of the condiment/filling effect, Ts=serving temperature, tc=cooking time, ta=time or duration of application of condiment/filling, cm=cooking method, C=Newtons required to break uncooked bacon.  “

(courtesy of The Register)

Baconophilia returns favor of the British Invasion; men in Scotland already drooling in preparation for the marriage of rashers and deep fried Mars Bars.

Pork futures?

Daıly cultural tıdbıt

Oh the other thıng that ıs decayed and gray around here ıs the boıled sheep’s skull cart. Fresh and hot! Now wıth teeth!

…yup. Thank heavens they only export baklava, ıs all I’m sayıng.