MBM – Sorry & Yorkshire Tea

It’s another MBM double, you lucky, lucky idiots…

No.

Sorry.

Every ounce of creativity has been stolen from my soul.

Sometimes, I just don’t have anything to offer.

Q.  How can anyone in their right minds like Yorkshire Tea?

A.  They can’t.

In fairness, the Yorkshire Tea wasn’t quite as bad as I had anticipated.   It doesn’t seem to taste of soil any more.

If you don’t know what the Milk Bottle Manifesto is about, then please click here.

 

MBM – Bernard

Bernard took another sip of his frothy coffee.  He was instantaneously transported back to April 13th 1908, and that fateful night that he accidentally killed Audrey’s gecko.  She had never forgiven him.  Bernard sighed.  Bernard wept.

Sometimes I embellish the milk bottle with a work of literature.  Today is one such day.  I truly spoil you.  Consider yourself spoiled.  You truly are the victim of a spoiling.  You are the spoilee.  I am the spoiler.  Spoil, spoil, spoil…

If you don’t know what the Milk Bottle Manifesto is about, then please click here.

 

The Perfect Cup of Tea

The perfect cup of tea is one that you got somebody else to make for you.

Everybody likes their tea in a different way. Milky and weak. Strong and not-milky. Strong and milky. Weak and not milky. The combinations are literally endless.

Given this infinite spectrum of taste possibilities, it’s almost inconceivable that getting someone else to make your drink will result in your exact specification. It’s hard enough to meet your own criteria when it comes to brew-making.

However, this doesn’t matter. Any discrepancies are soon overcome with the sheer delight of not having had to get up from your chair. Heavenly.

P.s.

I think we can all agree that it’s always nicer when it comes out of a pot. It just is.

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Costa Lot

What’s with the current obsession with coffee shops?  Where did people buy their hot beverages before they existed?  What did people do before they had a selection of 15 coffee shops in every medium-sized town centre? How would the British economy cope if the world’s entire coffee crop was blighted and the coffee shops had to close?  Why does a coffee cost so much in these places? More pertinently, why am I prepared to pay these outrageous prices?  Since when have teenagers been into coffee? Why aren’t they in school or getting pissed in the park?  Who are all these people who seem to have time to sit around all day sipping on some ridiculous fabricated coffee-based drink?  Why can’t the cup sizes just be called small\medium\large?  What do they feed the staff in Caffe Nero, Warrington that makes them so permanently perky?  Why are Costa Coffee so much slower at serving than the other chains?  Why are sandwiches so expensive in these places? Why do Starbucks call it “Skim Milk” instead of “Skimmed Milk”?  Just how much training do you need to become a skilled barista?

Phew…. I think I need to cut back on my caffeine intake.

Tuesday Dinner

Yes, it’s me again.  I’ve still not got anything proper that I want to talk to you about.  It’s no wonder that the number of hits the blog has been getting has been right down lately.  I’m currently on my dinner.  Yes dinner not lunch.  Get over it, rat fans.

I had a meat and potato pie and a meat and potato pastie from the wonderful Bessie Arden’s.  They were absolutely delicious and if you’re in the Warrington area then you need to search out one of Arden’s bakeries.  I really don’t want to think about how many calories they contained, though.  I’ll be having a bowl of boiled water for my tea.  Yes tea not dinner.   Get over it, rat fans.

You’ll be relieved to know that I’m drinking a bottle of Pepsi Max which contains an incredible 1.8 calories.  How do they pack so much not-disgusting flavour into such a low-energy drink.  It’s perhaps a miracle.  It’s probably just science.  The most baffling thing about the whole enterprise is the “bigger bottle – better value” motif.  Does anybody need 600ml of pop?  Was there a public outcry from concerned citizens who were being dehydrated to the tune of 100ml? Blah. I’m not even that bothered.  It’s just something to talk about.

Things seem to be rapidly degenerating into “No Time to Blog” around here.  It was one of the least successful features that the blog has ever had (both artistically and commercially), but, weirdly, it was almost a year ago exactly.  What is it about September that gives me so little time to write?  It must be all that back-to-school mayhem that has no direct influence on me whatsoever.

Anyway, I didn’t go to the gym this morning because I wanted an extra hour in bed.  There’s really no reason for me to have told you that.  This whole post just feels like an extra long tweet.  Oh well, back to work.

A bientot.

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