What Did You Last Eat Thread



Vesuvius aint got nothing on this eruptioner.
If I ever make the leftover sandwiches when we're sitting down to some evening telly watching I always put a very tiny hint of Naga Pickle in between ingredients. Then plate up. Its Russian Sarnie Roulette. When the full family of 4 are sat down usually during holiday time it really is a thing of splendour.
 
Then morning came. Let’s just say the comfort ended abruptly around 7 a.m. The vindaloo staged a dramatic comeback - one my stomach wasn’t ready for. I spent more time on the porcelain throne than our striker spent in the opposition’s box. A humbling reminder that revenge, like spice, is best served mild.
Thoughts and prayers are with your poor toilet.

-Bog.webp
 

Yesterday evenings supper was an ode to simplicity. The toast, bronzed and whispering of warmth; the baked beans, slow and silken, carrying their quiet sweetness. Together they formed something modest yet transcendent - a reminder that elegance often lives not in extravagance, but in the grace of the ordinary, perfectly done. And later, as the night settled in, the beans gave their hearty applause, a gentle rumble rising proudly into the quiet air.
 
Yesterday evenings supper was an ode to simplicity. The toast, bronzed and whispering of warmth; the baked beans, slow and silken, carrying their quiet sweetness. Together they formed something modest yet transcendent - a reminder that elegance often lives not in extravagance, but in the grace of the ordinary, perfectly done. And later, as the night settled in, the beans gave their hearty applause, a gentle rumble rising proudly into the quiet air.
You make me almost cry laughing with some of your posts (glad I don't live with you though).:lol:
 
Last night, I surrendered myself to the divine theatre of Korean barbecue - the symphony of sizzling meat, the gentle hiss of fat meeting flame, the chorus of side dishes dancing in perfect harmony. Each bite whispered promises of joy and flavour.

This morning, the reckoning arrived. The true measure of value - not in currency, but in density, made its grand exit. A moment so powerful it blurred the line between biology and mythology. There, in that porcelain temple, I gave birth to the huge spiritual embodiment of last night’s feast. Painful.
 
Last night, I surrendered myself to the divine theatre of Korean barbecue - the symphony of sizzling meat, the gentle hiss of fat meeting flame, the chorus of side dishes dancing in perfect harmony. Each bite whispered promises of joy and flavour.

This morning, the reckoning arrived. The true measure of value - not in currency, but in density, made its grand exit. A moment so powerful it blurred the line between biology and mythology. There, in that porcelain temple, I gave birth to the huge spiritual embodiment of last night’s feast. Painful.
Can I suggest Prune Juice 💩🏃‍♂️
 

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