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find me some juicy titbits

NOm’s

I have learnt two new words a few days ago, cod bites. Up until now my life has remained unenlightened with this wonderful food stuff capable of turning a mouth into a sordid mixture of fish, spit and teeth and I must say it’s changed my life.

Shopping, love it or hate it supermarket shopping at some time in our lives occurs. It’s always a never ending battle with its stupid aisles and puzzling offers; Banana’s 45p each or two for a pound, you know the type of thing one that prays on our busy lifestyle to empty our pockets. My biggest problem though is at the checkout as I always seem to draw some kind of unwanted attention. If I buy more than one bottle of wine you can bet some smart donkey will quip ‘Avin’ a party?’ To which the correct reply is of course ‘Indeed, I hear you are moving away from the area.’ Unfortunately I tend not to use that one as a punch in the mouth is often the result so instead I smile thinly and resist the urge to pull out their tonsils through their nose.

It just happened I was in one such queue on Sunday, oh, before I start may I congratulate the gentleman that walked in front of us as we left House Of Fraser in Wolverhampton on the way to our appearance at the weekend, it really was the loudest and fiercest fart I have ever heard and probably the first time I had seen one make somebody ‘hurry up’ with a brief lift whilst parting my hair and filling my clothes with a odour I can only describe as bad eggs in a jar of pickled herring. Well played, also a thankyou to the gentleman on the phone that decided to call us ‘fook@&g @anchors and address his friend on the other end of his phonecall as a c@&! whilst using two fingers to gangsta me.

Where was I? Ah, the checkout. It was a small queue, behind was a family and in front a bloke. I say bloke because he bloked if that made sense. He had bought his entire lunch from the hot buffet bar along with a packet of crisps and a can of fizzy beverage. Now I know life can be extremely busy and rushing about is what most people do but really is there any need for using the conveyor belt as a picnic table? Seriously, all the food stuff was laid out opened on the belt whilst the lady in front was served. A sip of coke, a nibble at the cheese and onion crisps and a bit of the roast chicken leg, he was clearly having a ball. I don’t ooze blokeyness so I’m always at a disadvantage in these situations, should I congratulate him on being so manly and allowing grease stains to run along the conveyor belt or should I have congratulated him when he accidentally dropped the packet of crisps on top of my shopping? As he picked out the crisps from my apples my stomach turned as I noticed the ring of grease around his lips and a piece of chicken wedged between his teeth. Hideous. Needless to say he took one look at me and that was it, he sneered, he was superior and I was a non-blokey so he decided to show off his blokeyness to me as certain men do when they meet a non blokey type of person.

Why do I always get them? I already had rampant farting and abuse from Mr Pottymouth on Saturday and now on Sunday I have suddenly become a plaything from a man ape of a bloke that wanted to show how unblokey I was by feeding himself in front of me. Licking his lips he turned back to the conveyor belt and opened the remaining grease packet. Looking me squarely in the eye he pulled out a handful of the contents and mashed them into his mouth with his big fists, just like a giant would in a fairytale to show how horrid they are.

That was it, I was scarred for life, his mouth had turned into a turgid masticating mess of chicken bits, saliva, grease and horrors of all horrors this new foodstuff; cod bites. Chomping and slopping away he bent over to me and opened his mouth really wide and slowly mushed its contents around with his tongue. It was probably the most disgusting unasked for thing I have ever seen. He was obviously proud of it and burst out laughing showering me with fish bits and spittle. I stood shocked, why would anybody do that? I thought back through my life and couldn’t remember a single episode where I filled my mouth with fishy meat and showed it off to strangers before blowing small chunks at them. I ended up with a fine spray of fluid over my face and small white pieces of cod decorating my shirt, I was so glad my mouth wasn’t open at the time or I would be joining him in his snack. He nearly got a ‘right back at you’ when my stomach lurched and I was nearly lavishly sick over him but I managed somehow to hold it all in.

He finished all his items by the time he had got to the till and simply paid for all the empty packets and cans then left them and walked off leaving me to clear them up before I could continue shopping.

‘You stink, can I smell fish?’ Said Jayne when I got home.

‘You can, but if you smell my face you can smell chicken too!’ I replied jauntily and with that I passed out completely.

 

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