Jackinky
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Stumped by these last two, brain has stopped working...
12-across is ingratitude
The "recently purchased" thread (AKA I just bought this)
- Thread starter Stevencc
- Start date
12-across is ingratitude
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M
Martino Knockavelli
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I don't approve of putting a circle around the numbers of the ones you've got. I'm a strike-through man.
Reginald Fodstain
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A four pack of giant Eccles cakes and some chocolate hobnobs
Corned Beef (£1.50) - I will put this in between two pieces of buttered Hovis Good Inside Best of Both bread and, if I'm feeling particularly swanky, I will throw some ketchup into the mix. I will then return the rest of the pack to the fridge in order to keep it refrigerated.
Lager (£1.50) - I will drink this.
Lager (£1.50) - I will drink this.
Max
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Steven, I just wanted to say I like that all of your entries are posed on a decorative cushion. And not just any cushion, but the sort of de-plumped purple affair that reminds me of a Moroccan sex boudoir. Well done.
slaphead
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Steven, not ketchup, surely HP sauce for corned beef?
Ketchup is the condiment of choice for me when I don't go for the naked corned beef sandwich - sometimes I will stretch to some Branston pickle.
Pagnell - we are all getting on in here and this thread has been one of the few refuges from the cold, nasty, violent place that this forum has become lately. I humbly ask you to keep such inflammatory language to yourself because, while the subject at hand was a highly emotive one, I believe the forum and society at large would benefit massively from such cordial exchanges.
Plus ketchup and corned beef are fucking lovely together, have you even tried it you c***?
Plus ketchup and corned beef are fucking lovely together, have you even tried it you c***?
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JimJams
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You've never tried chips and creme salade?
I bet you've never tried gravy and ice cream have you you fucking stiff?
epic73
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I once had a burger with only ketchup. I died.
mnb089mnb
Ian
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This youtube video is wonderful for so many reasons. Poor quality VHS recording, filmed on (presumably) a poor quality camera on a terrible TV. Magic.
M
Martino Knockavelli
Guest
I loath cheapo canned corned beef with a revulsion that borders on phobia. As a child I was not aware of the 1964 Aberdeen typhoid outbreak, in which over 400 people were poisoned by toxic Fray Bentos tins, but I do have Scottish ancestry, so it is possible that I was aware of it on some sort of subconscious level, and that it was part of my genetic memory.
Anyway, I had a school friend who used to have corned beef sandwiches in his packed lunches, and I could scarcely stand to be in the room whilst he consumed it, so my deep enmity for the stuff was well known to my (so-called) friends. This lead to not one but TWO deeply traumatic corned beef based practical jokes being played upon me.
In the first, at around the age of 15 or 16, my friends decided to put a slice of corned beef in my birthday card. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, the Knockavelli clan were holidaying in France at the time. As a result, the corned beef filled envelope sat on the floor of our house, in mid-August, for about 10 days before we returned and discovered it. By that point it was mouldy, stinking and rancid, and the fat had soaked through most of the pile of post that had accumulated in the interim, including my birthday cards, some of which contained cheques or cash. Yog Sothoth could scarcely have conjured such a scene of such appalling repugnance.
The second occurred two or three years later. I had a part time job at a supermarket, and had bought some items, leaving them in my bag on the shelf behind the deli. I knocked off at closing time, and realised half way home that I had forgotten my bag, which also contained my wallet. The two people I was walking home with proceeded to laugh with a mirth that seemed completely out of proportion to this oversight, which amounted to little more than a slight inconvenience. I discovered why the next day, when I collected my bag, and found that they had taken a slice of corned beef from the deli stocks and put it inside my wallet. Needless to say I had to throw it away.
So I fucking hate corned beef, regardless of which condiment one deploys in a futile attempt to mask its inherent vileness. I also remain ever-vigilant of attempts to conceal it about my belongings.
Anyway, I had a school friend who used to have corned beef sandwiches in his packed lunches, and I could scarcely stand to be in the room whilst he consumed it, so my deep enmity for the stuff was well known to my (so-called) friends. This lead to not one but TWO deeply traumatic corned beef based practical jokes being played upon me.
In the first, at around the age of 15 or 16, my friends decided to put a slice of corned beef in my birthday card. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, the Knockavelli clan were holidaying in France at the time. As a result, the corned beef filled envelope sat on the floor of our house, in mid-August, for about 10 days before we returned and discovered it. By that point it was mouldy, stinking and rancid, and the fat had soaked through most of the pile of post that had accumulated in the interim, including my birthday cards, some of which contained cheques or cash. Yog Sothoth could scarcely have conjured such a scene of such appalling repugnance.
The second occurred two or three years later. I had a part time job at a supermarket, and had bought some items, leaving them in my bag on the shelf behind the deli. I knocked off at closing time, and realised half way home that I had forgotten my bag, which also contained my wallet. The two people I was walking home with proceeded to laugh with a mirth that seemed completely out of proportion to this oversight, which amounted to little more than a slight inconvenience. I discovered why the next day, when I collected my bag, and found that they had taken a slice of corned beef from the deli stocks and put it inside my wallet. Needless to say I had to throw it away.
So I fucking hate corned beef, regardless of which condiment one deploys in a futile attempt to mask its inherent vileness. I also remain ever-vigilant of attempts to conceal it about my belongings.
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