Wednesday, July 20, 2005

Irrational Fears, too

Irrational Fears, too

My daughter has a thing about eating in restaurants or buying takeaway food. She has to see the food being prepared or she won’t touch it. This all stems from a visit to a takeaway outlet a few years ago when she witnessed one of the McDroids sneezing over the French fries when he should have been adding salt, and continuing as if nothing had happened.

I too share this fear of restaurant food. But this is because I have read “Fight Club”. Whenever I eat out, the words “I would strongly advise you not to order the clam chowder” ring around my head. Which is lucky. I hate clam chowder. With an active enough imagination, you can go off any food.

But then, I’ve seen what goes into “Value” meat pies.

Also: there’s nothing worse that seeing what makes a vending machine work*. It’s a sickening maze of plastic hoppers, tubes and arcane, ungodly machinery that has absolutely nothing to do with the creation of a passable cup of coffee. It may say “Nescafe” on the outside, in inside, it’s clearly bits of a dalek.

People who drink vending machine tea – or worse, vending machine soup – deserve everything they get.

* Apart from waking up in bed between Bernard Manning and Jimmy Carr

The ...err... Wednesday vote-o

Get your votes in – one more day left in the Worst Person Ever Travesty of the Democratic Process Poll, and if Kilroy doesn’t win, I’m going off to start my own political party.

Vote closes: when I feel like it.

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