3 Oct

First of all, I’d like to say this:
BATTLE MAMMARIES.

Alright, we will now proceed to our originally intended programme, snarky-tinged ramblings with a hint of rant sauce. Mmm. Delicious.
I recently found this blog/full-fledged website called The Gallery of Regrettable Food, and it is possibly one of the most entertaining things I’ve ever read. Most of it consists wholly of 50’s era brand-name cookbooks, the kind that hawk a certain type of, say, cream cheese, and act like if you use any other brand your penalty
is instant explosion. Only problem with the food on this website is that most of it looks absolutely revolting. There is a salad mold that looks like someone had the hangover of a lifetime and puked their guts up after following a strict vegan diet- and then made it jiggle, horror upon horror.
The part that makes it for me, though, are the wit-tastic comments left by the author of this blog. Sentences like “No other bovine teat-excrement will do!” run rampant in this delightful deconstruction of 1950s idealism. For god’s sake, they spelled “barbeque” with two hyphens. And then made terrible puns with the thing! You get words like “bar-b-trick” and “bar-b-burger” and it is unbearable.
As for what I’ve learned from these insults to advertising, I can say this: I do not ever want to time travel to the Fifties.

Will resume regular ramblings on Monday.
Ciao.

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