Food For Thought

April 4, 2019 2:27pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 16 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday On A Thursday!

They say it takes three weeks to form or break a habit so I thought I’d better get back on here before I got lost in the ether and ruined your lives forever.

Thing is, I’ve had very little to tell you as adventures have been put on the back shelf whilst I get on with pressing responsibilities. Yawn.

Recalcitrant Reptile

Uromastyx after bath

As usual, I could keep you abreast of Kevin, a fallback for all great bloggers, but unfortunately, he’s having a meltdown. After a couple of incidents with him becoming impacted, I decided heat may be a factor. I spent a fortune on a new vivarium that housed a better lamp. Then there was the task of moving him downstairs because, being the excellent Mother of Dragon that I am, I bought a bigger unit. This also meant I had to find a suitable place with room, remove a beautiful, antique Victorian writing desk, not to mention getting involved in a road-rage incident where I nearly broke my toe, and visit every single furniture shop to find the appropriately sized table to put it on.

And what does Kevin do? He goes insane. 

He spent a week on hunger strike and refused to use his house, preferring instead to bury himself like an ostrich in a corner. The lizard will not grace me with his presence and darts away every time I come within 6 feet of his viv. How dramatic.

The last year and a half of my efforts – hand feeding, singing to him, bathing him and teaching him how to be cool are all ruined.  Kevin hates me.

Yet again, I had to spend more time reading up on the contrary Uromastyx only to find out that they don’t like change and you must wait it out. 

Personally, I think Kevin is spoilt and ungrateful.

I’ve considered changing this blog to one concentrating on lizard husbandry since this is now my life. I could easily become the go-to person on the Moroccan Uro, probably get paid handsomely for this information, and get a job managing a reptile centre instead of taking pictures of farm animals, travelling to countries, or writing about flim-flam.  

Don’t Be A Sheep

Lambs in pasture in England

Had I been a prolific blogger, I could have delighted you with the recent pictures I took of lambs, because evidently, I have become one of those gushy people who put cute and fluffy animals on their social media accounts. Lambs are so delightful that I can’t even eat them. I’m not a massive fan of the meat to be fair, which helps, but give the thing a minute to live before you get it on the menu! I’ve got to stop looking at baby farm animals or I’m going to starve.

 As you can see in the photo we have here a lamb sprayed with number 68. One of my friends asked where number 69 was. Naturally. I went back to have a look and couldn’t find it anywhere because clearly it was a sitting duck for the village deviant and had been snaffled away for nefarious purposes. Another reason not to eat lamb. 

On Sunday I watched the TV show, Countryfile and they’ve gone and put me right off chicken because of the shite they eat and the toxins in their feed. That’s KFC up the spout. I’m on the verge of becoming a vegetarian, except I only like peas. 

Sugar Coated Lies

Last night I watched the first episode of a series about what we eat and how we are all killing ourselves. My God, it was terrifying. There’s so much sugar in our food it’s obscene and basically, the supermarkets are deliberately trying to kill us.  

Let’s take cereals. You may as well take the sugar caddy and tip it into your gob.  Stressed by this, I paused the show and went to analyse my Bran Flakes. Yes, Bran Flakes. The breakfast dish that has recently become a healthy option in place of my much-loved bacon bagel. 

Bran Flakes. There can’t be any sugar in those because it’s like eating cardboard. I know that there’s no sugar in them because I have to sprinkle a teaspoon on top in order to get through the ordeal without crying.  

I read the packet. FOURTEEN grams of sugar per serving.  You vicious, evil, lying, nasty, heart-attack inducing little cereal.

There are only eleven grams of sugar in a bloody margarita and I closed that avenue of pleasure off. It’s no wonder my personality has been sucked dry.

Based on the fact we should only have 30 grams of sugar a day, this inedible, falsifying flake takes up nearly half of my quota.  I then decided to weigh a teaspoon of sugar to see what that was. SEVEN grams. I nearly had a sugar-induced stroke.

TWENTY-ONE  grams of sugar consumed in the most unappetising breakfast bowl ever, and I believed eating it would make me look banging in my skinny jeans. Total lie. 

Ten thirty at night, atrociously upset and ready to sue Bran Flakes, I went late night shopping to buy new cereal. The only one I could find with a trace of sugar was Shredded Wheat. Ian Botham was right all along.

I went to bed slightly comforted by the fact that the Bran Flakes were sweating in my pantry and I could feed them to the birds in the morning. But, I couldn’t get to sleep. Hours I lay in my bed worrying about the damage I’d done to myself over the years and what life would be like if I had to have my feet chopped off.  

Ice cream or nice shoes?  It’s a real dilemma. 


Leave a reply

I think that they have those metal prosthetic feet that you can be fitted with if the originals fail, but with diabetes, you also go blind and Kevin doesn’t have the makings for a seeing-eye dragon. Not even for a comfort pet, so it seems. Stick with shredded wheat. Good for your digestive tract.

Alas #69… but better to abduct the sheep than a schoolboy.

I can see giving up on sugary bran but bacon? The world may be ending.

Yeah, but do they fit into cowboy boots, LL?

Kevin has inner powers, I’ll have you know. I think he’s just going through his teenage years. I will not be defeated by a little dragon! Large and in charge, me!

Yeah, good point on the lamb there!

Well, I watched another eating show last night that said wheat is the scourge of the earth and you shouldn’t eat it. Ergo, the Shredded Wheat were a waste of my time and effort along with bloody bran flakes. The people last night said we should eat like our ancestors – meat, leaves, and fruit – the rest is just utter rubbish that harms you. So, back to bacon it is. 🙂

“do they fit into cowboy boots?”

Sheep? I think you’re supposed to wear oversized Wellies, or unlace your lace-up boots so as to have room to shove the sheep’s rear feet in there, so’s they can’t get away and all. Cowboy boots wouldn’t leave enough room for the sheep’s legs.

Huh? Oh. You meant “do the prosthetic metal feet fit into cowboy boots?” Well. Imagine my embarrassment.
Hrumph. Nevermind. Carry on then.

There’s plenty of room for sheeps legs in a cowboy boot, Mike! They’re always a bit baggy up top 😉

Hahahaha! I don’t know what you’ve heard about this country but you’ve got it all wrong! Now, the Welsh…

No sugar, no carbs, no cardboard nasty branflakes. So at least there’s some benefit, thank God. Unlike BREXIT, what a total, utter, brazen betrayal. Is May worse than Chamberlain?
Then there’s Kevin. Don’t worry, he’ll be back.

No life. Boring. Hateful. Bleh. It’s apparent I am a much more interesting and fun person when I’m misbehaving on every level.

I can’t even begin to fathom the Brexit ordeal, LSP. I’ve never known so many votes taken on so many things and the inability to make a bloody decision. What a bunch of muppets.

Kevin needs to get a grip so he can start eating politicians. 🙂

Isn’t the sugar in your Bran Flakes, natural sugar? You know, like in fruit.
Natural bran sugar. Yeah, that’s a thing. Isn’t it?
I very much doubt that they are adding sugar to it.
Or maybe they are… just to give it that great cardboard taste.

No. It’s rubbish nasty sugar. They lie, Masher. God knows where it is because you can’t sodding well taste it!

Never take my dietary advice. 🙂

* Kevin is just mad Game of Thrones is ending soon. watch out if Kevin opens the door for you, it’s not cos he’s a gentleman. Emilia Clarke and Seth MacFarlane need to get back together, that needs to be a marriage in the universe. the Family Guy ostrich agrees.

* Moroccan Uro: name of my band in college, we opened up for U2 and the crowd got confused by both Uro and U2…

* I heard sheep-worrying is a crime punishable by time in the village gaol, and you never want to find yourself in a village gaol. the 69 Sheep is like the Smurfette of the village…

* wake me up when KFC has the Double Down again. can you believe that’s Paul Reiser doing the Colonel in those commercials? Paul Reiser!!! Countryfile taught me that all you need to grow things is alchemy.

* and now, Seinfeld on cereal:
“who had the balls to call a cereal LIFE? they might as well call it Almighty God.”
“Grape Nuts: no grapes, no nuts. is milk gonna be called shoes now? what’s the deal?”
“Cookie Crisp? chocolate-chip cookies for breakfast? okay, cake for dinner and bacon and cigarettes inbetween then.”


Kevin is the Game of Thrones spin-off sequel!

I think Uro should have had the stage but then there’s more kudos to being an Indie band.

The village gaol is not a place to spend time. It’s full of the hungover pub dwellers.

Cereal killers. *)

Ha! *)

Oh My Dear Julesy,
What could you have ever done to deserve such woeful treatment ?
A broken toe, an ungrateful reptile, and…..SUGAR in your Branflakes ! All of this without the aid of a refreshing margarita ?
OH The Humanity !!
I offer you my love and condolences my lovely friend. And also this, to aid you with the consumption of your new cereal choice :
And, btw, did you really just call me a “village deviant” ?
Love Always,

I know, PPS. I think I’ve been very bad in a past life and pretty much in this one and now the reckoning has begun…

Fried Shredded Wheat. I am going to have to try this just because. Only in America. What I find particularly amusing is the fact he says, ” Then cover it in sugar, I use Splenda…”

He uses Splenda. A sugar substitute. The man has just deep fried his bloody Shredded Wheat, for God’s sake, why ruin the ordeal with saccharine? HA!

Being a village deviant is our version of Redneck – it’s a compliment 😉

Love ya! 🙂

Kevin is just a lizard. That’s all he’s ever going to be. Human frailties, like ungratefulness, don’t apply.

I steer far clear of any food-education programs or books. Why ruin a good thing? You’ve been warned.

Are you accusing me of anthropomorphism, M?

And that’s what got me in trouble in the first place! It’s all about balance. Something I am not very good at. 🙂

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