Brenda’s Unfortunate Record #28


I am raging. Not as much as yesterday but still … I have a stinking cold & it’s really pissing me off. Spent all day yesterday wracking my brain between nose blows, trying to work out which infectious culprit passed this on. I mean it was a fun weekend and all, but I don’t remember any snotty faces. Is it possible the child I was minding last Thursday contaminated me? Can a virus lay dormant for so many days? *Quick consultation of Google* It must be. She stuck her grimy little germ-infested finger straight up my nose, mid-tantrum. I do remember thinking at the time … geeeeez. You can’t win, I tell you! 

I haven’t actually set off to write about illness. It’s only Wednesday (hello Friday reader, welcome to the past!) and i’m staring out the window, looking onto the sunny street and the ‘i don’t know what’ tree that’s beginning to show the first wisps of green. He’s a bit late compared to the others. The giant sycamore out back’s already flaunting a clean coat and the blossoms over the road have come and gone. Not like I was gonna talk about nature either. 

No, this week, spurred on by my Canadian correspondent (he’s back on email and the ‘faceless book’), I’m gonna go out on a limb and have a wee rant about foodies. It’s his fault. 

After the internet hiatus he tells me cat photos have been replaced with pictures of grub. I don’t bother getting into swaying trends, algorithms etc and instead launch into full-blown attack on what is essentially a bit of a pet-peeve. Like, don’t get me started. Next level consumerism, right? The tell-tale signs of a culture well and truly in decline. This whole generation of privileged ex-ers & millennials who obsess over their cuisine and organic wine. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of a good meal as much as anyone, it’s just the elitism & frivolousness which gets to me. 

The other day I’m sat at the end of the bar waiting for a pal to get off work, surrounded by chefs & ‘industry’ managers. They are sharing their fancy tequila (merci merci) which I appreciate but when they start scoffing about a buffet I can’t bite my tongue. Apparently that, and vol au vents are ‘where they draw the line’. Excuse me? Are you fucking kidding me? What’s wrong with a buffet and who the fuck are you, you privileged turd?! It really wound me up, especially as they stopped talking to me the second I said anything. 

At this point I’d like to remind everyone that the biggest famine ever is currently ravaging Africa. Our government is negotiating post-Brexit arms deals with the Saudis whilst they bomb the fuck out of Yemen, and these over-indulged, white males have just turned their back on me cause I dared defend communal dining and the vol au vent. Like, hello? I didn’t even mention starvation or the woes of the world!

Back to big-cash deals, what’s really going on and why this fixation on eating truly gets under my skin. You never hear about it at the vegan chocolate stand, do you? Free the chickens & don’t eat honey cause the bees must be! And I don’t have a problem with dietary choices, I’m vegetarian (and a lot of my friends are vegan – lol), but I do have a problem with overly-righteous, selfish numpties who pick and chose their burdens. It’s so much easier to march up and down the aisle at Wholefoods, feeling good as you fill your basket with overpriced organic snacks, than it is to consider how / why you can actually afford all this. Not saying we all have to live in constant guilt or anything, but maybe just have a certain level of awareness about our errrrrr positioning on this planet? Although I doubt the buffet-bashers give a shit about anyone but themselves, or that they’d dare to be seen at an organic food chain – it’s probably too common for them. And they’re definitely not Vegan. Again, too common. 

Hmmmmm…. I guess civilisation always goes out in a big, extravagant, gluttonous bash & as much as I wish the revolution was imminent, can’t see these cunts getting dragged down to the guillotine anytime soon.

Meh (hack hack hack sniff sniff sniff)


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