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And everything in it's place.

I've just prepared two crusty rolls with butter and cheddar cheese.

The rolls were part of Morrison's 'The Best' range. Only rolls that pass the very rigorous crusty and crumbly tests are worthy of the being called 'The Best'. These tests include the freshly baked rolls being crushed against the downy foreheads of waifs and strays, specially selected as part of Barnardo's outreach programme. If the foreheads of of the little angels bleed profusely, then that batch of rolls is deemed crusty enough. If however, the rolls simply fold on impact, leaving a mere bruise on the childs head, then the rolls are considered unfit for human consumption and are labelled accordingly with yellow,'Super Value' stickers and placed in the scum aisle.

The cheddar was flown in by helicopter from Fortnum and Mason's first thing this morning. At the dead of night a specialist gourmet rock climber, trained by Shaolin monkeys from Whipsnade, abseiled down the 378 foot vertical cliff face of a secret gorge in Somerset, to a tree, it's roots precariously clinging to the granite rockface, that is widely regarded as the best cheddar tree in Europe, where, reaching out to the furthest branches, he risked life and limb to select the crumbliest and most flavoursome cheddar imaginable.

Having cut my two rolls in half, spread some cold butter on them and hewn some hefty chunks from the block of cheddar, I built the perfect cheese rolls. Halfway through eating the first one I noticed I'd mixed up the four halves of the rolls...I'd put the top of roll A with the base of roll B and vice versa

My day is ruined...

What's the point of continuing?

As soon as I've finished these two boxes of chocolate fingers, I'm ending it all....

Or I may just have a nap.

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Sephina Frostbite wrote:

Such a tragedy! You have seen some hard times however you must go on. Give it a chance to make it right. 

I have, but fortunately, just when I feel I have hit rock bottom, an inspirational post like yours picks me up, dusts me down and I start all over again.

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Madelaine McMasters wrote:

... empties a basket of warm sesame bagels on the table, slices them in half and hands the beautiful seeded tops to all the bleeding angels, leaving you with nothing but seedless bottoms.

Greedy bleeding angels! What the bloody hell am i supposed to do with half a dozen bottoms...*consults Benny Hill's feminist treatise for ideas...without success*

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Scylla Rhiadra wrote:

I think you should just roll with it.

*ha ha ha*

 

Honestly, though, it's a little hard to take you seriously now.

Dumb noob mistake.

I open my heart and spread vulnerabilty liberally and don't get taken seriously. I've a good mind to storm off in a huff....or just go to bed....yes bedtime it is. 

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My take on British cuisine:  (yes, I know I am a twit, but . . .)

A man walks into a bar.  There is not a soul in the joint but the bartender and a tin filled with peanuts on every table. The man sits down and he hears, "Nice suit, very dapper" "Great shoes!" "Love the beard!"      .... The man cries out: "Who said that?" The bartender looks at him and smiles, "Oh, those are just the peanuts. They're complimentary."

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