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Ummmmmm… the beans look like peas to me.

English peas.

Have you ever, um, actually opened a can? What was it like?

I was wondering if it kinda plopped out all at once – like chili, or poured out in a chaotic cascade of constituent ingredients.

None of my business, of course.

Hey – are English can openers metric or ‘Merican? Do they go the wrong way ’round like English traffic?

I could see ‘beans n weenies’ or ‘chili n chips’, but good Lord almighty, that combo is nasty. And eggs of any sort in a can? Plain wrong.

The horror, the horror of English food. I’ve had people try to persuade me otherwise, but this little item will set that effort back 100 years or oso.

Note to Brits: Just because something will fit in the can, doesn’t mean it should be put in the can.

Lokki, can I just point out that a nation that uses guacamole for anything other than lubricating wooden axles and tries to excuse the eating of grits as anything other than rampant masochism, is tottering on thin ice when it comes to dissing others’ culinary quirks?

Beauty. Eye. Beholder.

Oh, yeah. And chacun a son gout.

That also.

Hey U,

(Hey! – that works. “hey” and “U”. Magical!)

….anyway, Mssr. or Wtvr. U.:

First: A “nation” didnt “diss” others’ food choices – a person did. It were Lokki – who’s math-fu is strong, and he eats food, so he knows what he’s talking about. And he can prove it. Mathematically.

Second: even if a nation did the “dissing”, why did you assume it was the nation-that-eats-guac-and-grits? This is an international internet.

Third: How do you know that Lokki is from that nation you imply is critical? From his name I’d assume he’s….uh….from a country.

Uh-huh…..gotcha, don’t I? Thought you’d slip this by me, didn’t you? You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to put one over on a minion.

Now go over there in the corner and write 100 times “I will not blow it out my ass carelessly on Weasel’s blog.”

Ouch – don’t mess with McGoo’s friends. He’ll make you write code.

mmmmm…guacamole and grits.

Sorry about the presumptious rant at your guest, Weasel, O’ Mighty Sage, but last night I was suffering from the effects of a debilitating hangnail and was a bit touchy.

Heavens, McGoo. Say what you like. Every day is Minion Day at Casa da Weasel.

I was all excited. I thought U was our first troll. Sadly, the IP address reveals only Uncle Badger, muffing the input of his own name. Must be those paws: excellent for digging, for typing…not so much.

Hey U! Eat worms! Heh heh heh.

Yeah, my heart was racing a bit too. Dawn’s little bon mot was especially pleasing, and added a delicate grace note to my otherwise heavy-handed ear-flick.

Say, Lokki, when you’re through with food math, how’s about proving that I’m rich, handsome and sexy?

Since, at this point, it’s only a theorem.

Huh! and what’s wrong with worms, eh? Lotsa protein in worms, you know.

Anyway, least I don’t sleep in a hollowed-out runnybabbit!

Nice weather in Amsterdam.

Now, if those were faggot omelletes…