Read After Iftar

Potato wedges. Not the best way to describe potatoes, neither are they the best side-dish to pizza. Pizza hut’s marketing section needs a mental jog..or rather a wedgie.

Accent relapses, 80-year-old women who cause you to regress to your British accent, topped with the phonetic mouth twitching and pausing sounds, for a couple of days without noticing. No one’s quite fond of brits. They’re like potato wedges, without the potato part. Except British actors, like Hugh Grant. Now those, despite the fact that they’re complete and utter douches, snobbish rejects from proper friendly society and a disgrace to the intensity that is peculiar to the human race, are flat-out sexy. I dare you to find one girl who hasn’t had the hots for Colin Firth at a point or another. I take that back, Colin Firth is for menopausal maniacs with middle-age crisis, crushing over vegetable soup. Maybe just Hugh Dancy. *euurgh*

Adding words you like to the dictionary of your WLW so it wouldn’t bug you just because it’s old school and you wouldn’t bother with the live update that sends the entire windows’ package programs into epilepsy is a new level of egotistical that I’d like to be patented and named after me. If you have a problem with that you can go and serve yourself some wedgies.

And no, not the potato ones.

Peanut butter and Jell-O. I always wondered why they chose that combination, of all others, to describe a love-hate relationship or two completely different people that get along. I only like Peanut Butter  chocolates, and Jell-O always sends chills down my spine because it looks like something that has been digested before. Putting two pastes together that are equally convulsive yet unequally disintegrable is plain baby-food. I’m not a fan of passed-down grubs, so unless you’ve been second hand eating I can’t imagine what the first person who made a peanut butter and Jell-O sandwich was thinking other than the fact that they had nothing else left in the fridge, or was into masochistic feeding habits. Give your taste buds a thrashing, or maybe punishing your sweet tooth for ever asking for anything outside of your beet-root and cabbage soup diet. Why couldn’t they just say Pizza and beer? or mollokheya and rice? or Tuna and macaroni? or Green tea and dark Lindt chocolate? Hot cocoa and chilli? Milk and Cinnamon? Fish and orange dip? Chips and Ketchup? Sushi and Lime juice? Luncheon slices with Jam spread on cake? Renga w basal?

Oh now don’t give me the critter sound effect…Anyone?

Meh.

I’m glad that person was opheliac enough to mix em though, because I love peanut butter and jelly, as long as they’re together, because it only works when peanut butter gives the jelly structure and when jelly stops peanut butter from sticking to your palate, and only hosted by the bread that actually stops your stomach from defying gravity.

Do I hear it for cheetos and mayo dip?