Saturday, 1 August 2009

Yuk, I Hate Everything

I love food. I don’t drink. I don’t take drugs. I don’t smoke. Can’t you just leave me alone and let me enjoy a kebab?

Hell no. Even if the anti-cancer diet permitted such déclassé fare as kebabs, there’s no point. Everything tastes revolting – metallic, yet cotton-woolly at the same time. Possibly like steel wool? Yes, that would be it. Everything tastes like a rusty old bit of steel wool that has been sitting in the bottom of a greasy saucepan for a day or two.