What’s funny is that a lot of Filipinos cant pronounce the letter “f”, they pronounced it as “p”.
Filipinos comedian made fun of it when his mum was driving in the carpool lane “but I was driving very carpool”
Plastic seals that remain on the product after you go to open them and are left with the little tab in your hand.
I die a little inside when this happens and it’s a better than 50/50 chance.
I had a few English people in the US flat out not understand me. As soon as they hear the accent they just couldn’t cope.
Because of this I did get the classic New Yorker ‘getthefarkouttahere’ response, which was nice.
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Love those resealable bags for muesli, cheese etc.
You cut along the line to open the bag, and if it doesn’t utterly destroy the sealing mechanism, when you go to use it, the thing doesn’t even hold its self together.
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Well, Earls Court is near Chelsea, and 50 years ago it was the only place to stay for Aussies in London. There were no Hostels in Chelsea back then and there are none advertised now, so if the shops let an Aussie backpacker through the door, they probably were not in Chelsea.
About 25 years ago, I lived for three months in Kensington, in a very posh area, only because our client owned a property there and let us stay. Chelsea seemed even posher, but Earls Court was not far away and still had some great pubs.
The Polish thing is interesting as well, because back then certainly were many places that it was hard to communicate unless you knew some Polish. Mrs Fox the First was Polish, so I knew all the swear words. I flew from Gatwick once to Poland and from the time I got on the plane no English was spoken. It was a Ryanair flight and even the flight announcements were in Polish, nothing in English.
I came across them at a roadside stop near the Lao-Viet border. Don’t know that they were ‘caramelised’ as such, just very big black spiders on a paper plate. And cockroaches 3-up on bamboo skewers. I skipped lunch.
When going through Cambodia & Laos we also skipped on the barbequed spiders. A couple of ladies on our tour did indulge though, and said the idea of them was far worse than the actual eating - that it was essentially just eating charcoal.
My spirit of adventure began and ended with trying ants (they were cooked up with oil, chilli and garlic, served with sticky rice… if I didn’t know, I’d have been hard-pressed to notice there were ants in it) and spider wine (essentially tarantulas floating in the local rice wine… it was pretty rough…)
When you’ve had an… umm… explosive case of travel food poisoning involving a hospital visit (as I have done…) it does tend to curtail your desire to go “off-piste” too often…
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Had grasshoppers in China which were really tasty. Big black Scorpion, legs were tasty, thorax was just a gooey surprise packet.
Woman on the train talking pretty much exactly like this. And, from the overloud conversation, it sounds like she works in a coffee shop!
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I don’t care if it’s high dining or street food.
Nobody wants to peel a prawn or shrimp. Nobody.
We want to eat it. Not prepare it and get crap all over our fingers. Why is this a thing? Of what benefit is it to anyone?
Any meal that makes you peel your own shrimp or prawn is 0/10.
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It assures the product is fresh.
Plus some psychos eat the goop in the head part.
Oysters though…
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I quite enjoy shucking an oyster, though it is certainly an activity for home.
I honeymooned in Tasmania back in the day and my hand luggage for the flight back was five dozen live oysters and a six pack of limited edition Boags stout. There is no greater pairing. You can stick your wine and cheese.
Anyway, in accordance with the thread: Boags ceasing production in Tasmania. Get absolutely farked.
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Back in the day, the qantas club in Tassie (might’ve been Launceston) was just a room with a couch, a tv and a fridge full of beer with a padlock. You’d get the key and help yourself.
I’d regularly help myself to 6packs in my carry on.
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I remember being “stuck” in the Qantas lounge in Sydney some time around 2000 due to a cancelled flight.
3 hours wait which I was forced to fill with unlimited whiskey, soft cheeses and the Wallabies actually winning a Bledisloe cup.
Wrong thread.
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I recall the beer strikes in Melbourne that happened every Christmas. I happened to be in Launceston and won the raffle at a local pub, the prize was a years supply of Boags , 52 cases !
We packed on it all into the big wooden box that had contained the X-ray machine we had been installing and airfreighted it to Moorabbin airport, picked it up in the company Ute and stored it at a mates unit in Oakleigh, with the plan to sell it to the Christmas drunks for a massive profit.
Good plan that fell apart when the strike was settled the next day and the CUB product flowed again. Boags beer was ok but we got very sick of drinking it all the time. For all I know the last 10 cases could still be in that apartment in Oakleigh.
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And the food wankery that dictates that even when you do peel them, just leave a quarter of the tail shell and the fin on.
And then there’s the people that compound the insanity by not picking that tasty little morsel out.
Humanity. Do better.
Wow.
You squeeze.
squeeeeeze.
Even better when the whole thing is battered (in Indonesia).
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This made me go, ohhhh okay.
Then, wait…what??? How?