Fucking advertising has me at it again!
Now I want to eat a fucking Skoda, lick it at the very least.
Apart from the Julie Andrews soundtrack, it is a brilliant ad.
A full sized car made from cakes and sweeties.
Murder when I have the munchies!
The trouble is they will now ‘do it to death’ and I’ll end up hating it.
I’m sure I am not the only person who when peeling potatoes, looks in the pot and thinks ‘I’d better do another one, maybe two‘.
What the fuck happens to them when they are mashed.
Five roast spuds seems enough for any person, mash ‘em and there’s barely a spoonful.
Where do they go?
We had quite a bit of left over beef and gravy. I’ve slung it all in a pot with leeks, peppers, herbs from the garden, peas and two cans of Guinness, pastry on top.
Ta Dah! Steak and Ale Pie.
Not that I could eat it because a housemate wanker insisted they knew what pastry I wanted when clearly, they fucking didn’t.
I’m actually beyond angry now, and have that ‘blank’ feeling that Ritalin used to give me.
It’s a tiny ping pong ball sized, leaden knot in my stomach at the moment but it will get heavier, bigger and harder to contain.
I know it’s going to explode out and stuff WILL get broken.
Grrrr..
I ate some of the raw pastry, so I’m bound to get fucking worms, just to top it off.
Starving, with an itchy arse…. Great!
8 comments:
I love that Skoda add too. Especially the bit with the angel cake...murder later on at night when I tend to get slightly peckish and could just manage a wee sliver of something.
But to make us want a sliver of Skoda is plain wrong.
Int'resting, I thought Skodas were made out of tin cans.
No, they're made by Wolkswagen!
I still want to lick it!
Itchy arse?
Does raw pastry give one that?
Lenten: It does if you sit on it and let it dry.
Lenten.. According to my Grandmother, any child who scratched their arse had worms!
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