A Nip In The Air.

29 Mar

There is nothing quite like hearing your own father say the words “try that bit, there’s no nipple on that” to put you right off every single thing in life.

As much as I would like to leave that comment sitting there without any context, I feel it only fair to give you some.

We all went out for lunch to The Maltsters Arms (because what else do you do when your days off coincide with half term?), Dad ordered the pork belly, it came with crackling and there were still nipples attached. Nothing has ever disturbed me more. I mean, I am well aware that pork crackling is just the cooked skin of a pig, but…you don’t expect nipples. You should never have to expect nipples when it comes to any food you’re eating.

It then started to absolutely chuck it down on our way back, which meant I was in absolutely no mood to go home straight away, because driving through the rain is actually quite nice, except when you’re the one driving the car (I imagine. Still getting round to doing that myself.) so we stopped off at Sainsbury’s to look at the toasters and buy some reduced price easter eggs.

We then came back home and watched Bake Off – Creme De La Creme, which is GBBO with absolutely none of the charm. When you’re rooting for people to drop an entire tray of Framboisier you know they’ve done a terrible job of making you give a shit about the contestants. Also, if you’re going to make people cook some Paris-Brest, and there isn’t a single heavy handed innuendo or reference to  boobs, it shouldn’t even be allowed to be tarred with the Bake Off (pastry) brush.

This blog has been very nipple heavy. Sorry.


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