First up, let me apologise for the massive lack of posting. Won’t go on about it too much, but I have had alot on my plate (unfortunately none of it good food) so this blog had to take a bit of a back seat.

Anyway, onwards.

What a bowl.

I mean, I can’t knock the bread. It was good bread, some sort of tomato based wheat treat. So for once, Good move mother. Have one high five on me for the bread. *BREAD HIGH FIVE*

I can’t be so kind on the rest of it. I don’t want to say it reminds me of a plate of sick, but it has all the classic attributes :

Funny little orange bits [tick]

No resemblance to anything edible [tick]

An indescribable texture [tick]

And a smell that can only be described as

’burny’. [tick]

I believe it was chicken tonight at one point, although I don’t remember the adverts mentioning it being previously eaten by someone else. Chicken Last Night is perhaps a more apt name.

Here is another angle so you can appreciate its perplexing hold upon the bowl.

Iv’e also just thought about how odd it is to just have this and bread for dinner, like a ration at a homeless shelter, or a Victorian orphanage.

Unlike Oliver Twist, I don’t think I will be requesting more.

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Living With Mother.

I Do Not Feel Like. Day 19.

- January 12 -