Durian.
Smells like death and tastes like evil.
( Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Fri 18 May 2007, 7:47, Reply)

Come on down under... land of surreal foods
Because we basically have no actual cuisine of our own, Australian chefs are constantly stealing ideas from Aborigines in a vain attempt to claim some kind of regional uniqueness.
As such it's quite common to have "bush tucker" on the menus of fancy restaurants, or at least selected ingredients.
They seem to have forgotten the Aborigines largely ate this stuff because there wasn't anything else.
The result is all sorts of bizarre shite with hugely inflated price tags.
Anyway, my personal favourites (and yes I've eaten them all):
Sugar ants on barramundi fillets.
Feral buffalo wrapped in bark and cooked in a dirt pit (no kidding).
Crocodile kebabs.
Grilled Bogong moths.
Goanna (a big lizard) fillets.
Marinated snake pieces.
Possum pie...
and the piece de resistance, Kangaroo and Emu grilled and served together.
Yes, that's right you can actually eat the two animals on our coat of arms.
Lets see the Brits serve up Lion and Unicorn!
( difficultchild, Fri 18 May 2007, 4:42, Reply)

My mother
had my boyfriend and I to dinner one day, and told us we were having meatloaf. Ok, we thought, she makes decent meatloaf. So, we wait, ravenously, for dinner. As she pulls the meatloaf out of the oven, she pauses and says "oh yeah, I did something special with the meatloaf today." "Oh, what's that?" "Well," she answers, "I was in the mood for cabbage rolls, so I mixed in a can of sauerkraut!" I think I've said enough....

Length? Well, you were probably nervous your first time too....
(RDT <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><, Fri 18 May 2007, 4:24, Reply)

Salami
Salami luncheon meat is made from cow hearts. Its right on the damned label. I'll still eat it though. I heard baloney has tongue in it, but its not on the label.

The only terrible food I've had was the raw chicken nuggets from KFC. You'd think they'd remember to cook them.

A college specialty is leftover sandwich. Fettuchini alfredo tastes good between bread.
(evil_penguin_17 Robots of Doom... Attack!, Fri 18 May 2007, 3:27, Reply)

Korean Mexican
My wife is Korean. She likes to cook for me, and has tried to make a lot of foods she's not used to. A few months ago she got some packages of Mexican food containing tortillas and all the sauces and spices necessary. While she was cooking burritos, she asked me "How much garlic do you want me to use?"

Huh? Garlic? "Uh...not much."

She filled the sauce with garlic. I haven't had Mexican food since.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Fri 18 May 2007, 3:07, Reply)

Stomach acid that can burn through the hull of a ship!
Tried to make my own flat bread once. It was okay, if a little stodgy.

That really is the worst thing I've ever eaten. I pretty much have a cast iron stomach.
(Seance Trumpet has got no beef with a man enjoying a croissant, Fri 18 May 2007, 2:26, Reply)

Day after paying deposit + first month's rent, which was also the day before pay day
Three grown men, no money whatsoever. Literally, NO money. Seems incredible now but that's how it was.

We ate a slop made of canned mushy peas and rice.

I realise it's not funny at all to the external observer but it was utterly humiliating to all those involved.

If you're ever feeling curious, try serving it up for yourself and see how you get on. Then, and only then, will you appreciate this horror.
(Brian Blessed, Fri 18 May 2007, 1:40, Reply)

Stew a la chav
My sister told me one day of the 'lovely' meat stew her family had had the previous sunday

Her secret?

Using the cold meat from a takeaway donor kebab which her bloke had brought the previous night...

Beat that Delia!
(Boss Mew Covfefe does not bargain...it only covfefes., Fri 18 May 2007, 1:37, Reply)

Austria
Oh dear god Austria. A country famed for Der Governator, Mozart, the Berchtesgaden, lederhosen and, more to the point, its excellent and reasonably priced skiing.

A few years ago the promise of chucking myself down some prime, virgin pistes in the most heart-stoppingly, ball-quakingly beautiful scenery you can possibly imagine outside of Norway with my school chums took me to this godforsaken fiefdom.

Quite apart from the utter, utter chaos that reigned over the entire trip and the truly excellent skiing that was to be had, the two things that will be forever associated with Austria in my mind are the reasonably priced, unreasonably strong (80%, bejesus) rum and the food.

The food. In the same manner as a survivor of the Soviet gulags, I can't bring myself to give a narrative account of its horror, so instead I will give more of an itinerary of culinary suicide. Once more into the breach!

Soup: Water, grease (you could SEE it on the surface, urrrgh) and soggy croutons. Also saltier than a merman's jizm. This was the starter for every meal I ate, and was ignored every damn time. You wouldn't drink the Dead Sea, would you?

Bread: Loaves?! Gott in Himmel, vot are zey? I've never appreciated a 39p Freshdays Thick Sliced more than when forced to eat fucking baps for a week. Passable when smothered with some 'generic Lidl nut spread'.

Milk: Tasted slightly off all the time, and had a layer of cream/fat on the top so thick it needed spooning off. So no cereal, hot chocolate, coffee... the list goes on.

Wiener Schnitzel: All the crap cuts of veal mashed together, covered in breadcrumbs and cooked until it's dryer than Nefertiti's fadge. Like eating sinews preserved in formaldehyde.

Almdudler: Saw it in a shop on the slopes for about 20 cents less than the other bottled drinks, so I thought I'd give it a blast. Looked like apple juice so that's what I expected. Took a swig and immediately spewed it back up when the taste registered. Imagine urine, bleach and alcohol-free Diamond White mixed together in a cocktail of delight and you're about halfway there; definitely had the smell of fermentation about it. That it's the Austrian national drink speaks volumes.

Mutton: Managed the task once thought impossible, namely putting me off lamb. Swimming in grease, tough and hellishly overcooked, served with a side of beansprouts and lightly peppered pasta. I'm not making this up, I swear blind.

Nockerl: Served as dessert, but oh christ. Imagine bread covered in melted butter, with a few chocolate sprinkles on top. Tasted like coronary thrombosis, with a hint of metal.

For the 7 days we spent in this culinary backwater, I survived on the aforementioned overproof rum; the spaghetti carbonara served at the restaurants on piste; pizza ordered at the local pizzeria-cum-gay bar (again, this is 100% of fact) which had to be collected by walking the 2 miles to the local burgh and back under dead of night in temperatures of around -10 celsius, often in moderate blizzard conditions; ice tea which was (and still is) bloody lovely; and apple strudel, which is the official Best Thing About Austria.

Even the women were ugly for god's sake! And the cigarettes were... no, no more! My fragile mind can't take it! Yes Nurse, pass me a Temazepam if you please. No, don't worry about this pencil you silly strumpet, it's not even sharp. Give it back I say! BACK!



Apologies for, well, everything really...

EDIT: Got veal and mutton confused, arse!
(SurferRosa causing the lamentation of the womenfolk since, Fri 18 May 2007, 1:35, Reply)

The shits...
This time last year I was backpacking around India with my then girlfriend. Wonderful place, great people, good food etc...

except the one time I ate a thali that had obviously been contaminated with dirty water or maybe the waiter hadn't washed his hands after fingering his bum hole or something.

For the next two months I continued to shit bown water out of my arse at the most impromptu moments. Lost about two stone in weight (being a skinny bugger anyway, I looked like a smack fiend!)

What was worse, every time I sparked up a Charras joint (strong, strong weed), the natural muscle relaxants caused my bowels to collapse within seconds of the first drag of the joint. So it was a case of *spark* *inhale* *run* *shit my ring off* *wash hands* *smoke joint* *shit my ring off*

etc...
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:57, Reply)

Hmmm
i have a knack for eating popcorn kernels. Dunno why, i love the little crunchy buggers.

Go over to a mates house to hammer out on his PS3 (i can't afford one and project 8 rocks the house). I see a bag of popcorn on the floor, just kernels left, sweet i think. Start munchin, munch for about half an hour, only a few kernels left.

"Rich, those have been there for over a week now..."

Hmm, wondered why they were a little strange.

Also, as a student, big bowl of smash with ketchup and lea and perrins stirred in, wasn't great but was all i had. One of my flat mates was sat next to me quietly munching away on a bowl of smash and oyster sauce. Ewwwww

And this is a kind of eating, having to whack antibiotic cream up my nose at the moment, barrels of fun, dripping down the back of my throat and making me vomit, 3 fucking times a day. Nice one god.

and by the way, for any of you who remember my operation troubles from back in the Personal Hygiene QOTW, They did the wrong operation and I'm having to have another one next Wednesday, and there's another abscess under my arm.

If any of you see some sympathy, send it my way.

Length? whats that?
(knifeh and Mrs Knifeh discovered radioactive bacon!, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:50, Reply)

that reminds me
When I lived in jamaica (yawn, he always talks about jamaica after a few beers), I practically starved to death.
As a veggie in a country where veggie means you eat chicken but not goat, I struggled somewhat to get a healthy diet.
I was in a poor village that only had one shop that was only good for tins of fish or meat and some stale hard-dough bread (the only bread in the world that can go from fresh to mouldy in half a day).
Anyway, I survived due to the kindness of strangers and that way managed to get a meal at least every three days (it was a hell of a way to diet - I lost two stone whilst I was there and I wasn't a fat bastard before I went).
fruit and milky drinks made up most of my diet between meals.
only one time did I allow myself to get tempted by that old jamaican breakfast, rum with milk. Now this was with overproof rum, you can strip paint with it.
In my defense I was desperatly hungry and milk was about the best thing I could get, someone else was buying it and they slipped a shot of rum in it.
Within about two minutes I was pissed as a fart and giggling like a maniac.
After another two of these (they were strangly filling) we were all fucking hammered and talking utter shit.
Then my mate (who was going through the same thing as me) started arguing with me and acting almost violent. Being pissed up myself I told him to go fornicate with a goat or somesuch. Then, without a word of warning, he kicks me up the arse.
I felt a bit like Bishop Brennan from father ted and screamed "Why the fuck did you just kick me up the arse?"
His response was to sneer at me and then try and do a chinup on the roof struts of the bar.
As he lifted himself up his hands slipped and he fell about six foot onto his arse. Everyone laughed as he rolled around in pain (turned out later he'd fallen onto his tailbone). He staggered to his feet, made a rude gesture at everyone and then left the bar and got on his bike. He'd rode off majestically for about three feet, then hit a concrete step and flew of the front of the bike landing face first in the dirt.
After we stopped laughing we went and picked him up and carried him back into the bar. Parts of his face looked like squashed tomato. To help the pain we got him another rum and milk whilst we all laughed and took the piss.
Eventually we had to take him to hospital. On the way I checked the time to see it was only 9.30am.

Rum and milk, breakfast of champions.
(EvilMeister, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:38, Reply)

Never.... ever
Never eat a strange Pho dish that the waiter politely tells you not to order when you are extremely hung over. It is a bad idea. Always.
( Art101 You all have an unhealthy and morbid fascination, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:36, Reply)

Palm Wine...
...This has proper set me off. I was doing some volunteer work in Ghana, because I am a kind and caring soul, and part of it involved going to this village in the middle of nowhere and trying to start up some form of farmer's collective. Anyway, we had to leave to get to this village at about four in the morning, getting there about half five. One of the head-type people then immediately drags us off to have some palm wine, which is pretty much fermented palm tree sap. We get it straight off the fire and poured into hollowed out cocout shells. I get the biggest one, which probably held about a pint. This stuff is cloudy, off-white and sweet, warm and tastes foul. It also has bits of charred wood in it. Refusing it would have been the height of rudeness, so I thought 'I'll neck it. Can't be too bad.' I was mistaken. After just about keeping it down, the bloke goes: 'Ah! You like it?'
'Yes' reply I, trying to keep it down.
He then refills my coconut shell, which I down again, seeing that his jug is empty and this will be the last of it. He laughs, then goes away and comes back with some more.
I downed the third one and refused his kind offers of more. I then had to go and have a lie down, as it was pretty strong stuff and I was hammered. It was just about six by this time.
When we finally got back to the village I was made to have a beer. I then had to go away and be quietly sick somewhere.
(spangledonkey I've got a mouse. His name is Gerald., Fri 18 May 2007, 0:18, Reply)

Quorn
It's not meat, and it's a shit substitute for meat.

Once quorned, twice shy of shyte.
(FightingComet got Boost Power on, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:12, Reply)

'Diet' is just 'Die' with a 'T' addeed
One day, Mrs. God decides that she'd like to shift an extra pound or two. So she goes to work, and asks the women she works with for a good diet. The two fattest people there hand her a piece of paper with 'British Heart Institution Diet' at the top. It's like a 93rd generation photocopy, and a bit hard to read.

So, Mrs. God carefully conveys this home, as if carrying the Holy Grail. And together, we check out the awful truth. Oh. My. God.

Now, I can eat almost anything. I'm known for it. In fact, Mrs. God complains that she never knows if I like her cooking, as I always eat everything in front of me.

We shop for these ingredients. Now, Mrs. God is something of a picky eater, despite as I said, wanting to shift a pound or two. But we get all the ingredients for the three days we need to survive, and get it sorted.

Breakfast, day 1, is something moleste odd like a slice of ham, a digestive biscuit, and half a grapefruit. Now, I'd never eaten grapefruit before, but I thought it'd be a bit like an orange, only yellow. Turns out it's more like Satan's snot marinated in lemon washing up liquid. A tiny nibble on the end of a spoon triggers a hurling fit unmatched since my student days. Twenty minutes later, the last of the dry heaves stop, and I lurch from the bathroom, pale and twitching. I go to work, starving. I get texts all day from various in-laws, teasing me for puking.

Lunch was OK. Dinner was OK, although my spirits were slightly lifted by watching Mrs. God struggle with it. In the end, she closes her eyes, holds her nose, and eats whatever the hell it was one cubic millimeter at a time.

We go to bed, tummies rumbling no end. At least she'd had *three* meals - I'd only had two, and I'm sure I'd chucked what I'd eaten the day before as well.

Breakfast, day 2. This time, as I happily tucked in, Mrs. God's normally English Rose complexion turned rather more... well, let's say British Racing Green. Would she...?

She did.

Lunch... Well, it went in.

That night, we looked at the diet sheet. We looked at the ingredients. We looked at each other... We went to the chip shop.

Turns out, after a brisk bit of Googling, that said diet is nothing to do with the British Heart Foundation. They have a page on their web site (here, if you're interested) explaining that it's nothing to do with them.

Never again!
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:09, Reply)

Vegetarian food
*rubs hands together*

Right, first of all I was a veggie for fifteen years. I'm not gonna go into the whys and whatnot, lets just say I became one of my own free will and then fifteen years later decided I'd had enough and I needed some red meat in my system.
Over those years I must have eaten some of the worst shit in my life. Really, what some people believe to be a decent alternative to a meat dish is beyond belief.

One time, I went out on a works christmas lunch to find only one veggie option on the menu, chargrilled peppers with rice. Fair enough, thinks me, I'll have some of that.
When it came it was microwave pieces of pepper with some boiled white rice. No chargrilled, no flavouring, nothing. Just warm peppers and boiled rice. Nice.

Weddings were always a laugh. One time, for my main, I was served a hollowed out, raw tomato filled with boiled rice and sultanas. I wasn't sure if I should fuck it or eat it.

The worst wedding was a mates in Spain. I knew he loved food and assured me he had made sure that the veggies were going to get some good andalucian food.
Sure enough, a steaming bowl of of (what looked like) chickpea stew was placed before me. I grabbed my spoon only to find the waiter pulling the bowl away from me.
"This is not for you, this is the meat dish". Turns out there were lumps of ham in it. At that moment I really didn't care and wanted to eat it.
Instead I as given a piece of lettuce with some oil dribbled on it.
Then they brough the meateaters roasted duck.
I love duck.
One of the reasons I started eating meat again was so I could eat duck.
So, as I sit there watching my friends rip apart the sweet birds flesh, I was presented with a plate of grilled vegtables.
A slice of carrot, a chunk of courgette and a mushroom.
I do believe I cried.

Before I hit the 'post this message' button, I must say one more thing.

Quorn.

What the fuck is that shit? As a veggie I would often go to someones house to be served a fine quorn curry or somesuch nonsense.
Listen, if I'm veggie, why the fuck are you serving me a meat alternative? I don't eat meat, I don't need an alternative. Especially one that tastes like mouldy fish.
Really, quorn simply is the spawn of satans excrement and there is no reason to eat it at all (apart from the sausages, they're ok).
(EvilMeister, Fri 18 May 2007, 0:03, Reply)

Minty fresh and full of yeasty goodness.
I used to work with children on a housing estate in London. One day one of the kids was talking about how Marmite yeast extract and spearmint chewing gum were his two favourite flavours. I said great, but imagine now disgusting they would be together... but this kid was sure they'd be nice... after all, they were both things he really liked. So, we spread some Marmite on a stick or Wriggleys (the look and smell alone had me practically heaving) and he popped it into his mouth and started to chew on it. It took maybe 3 or 4 seconds for his face to change to chalk white, a couple of minutes at most before he actually puked.
( mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:59, Reply)

Slimming World desserts
As me and my friends can testify, the desserts that Slimming World peddle as alternatives to proper stuff like cheesecake are rank.

Top two have to be the tiny steamed puddings which are basically flour, water and sweetener (which can't be tasted) inflated in the microwave and the orange chocolate mousse. Mousse my arse. You cannot make a tasty dessert using a sugar-free jelly, vanilla yoghurt and cocoa powder. You can make some oddly-layered powdery wet mush which tastes like air freshener.

Weirdly enough though, the barbecue chicken made with tomato soup powder and orange pop is very tasty =]
(Medibot, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:56, Reply)

OK, so it's a school dinner, but there you have it...
I went to boarding school for a while. While enormously fun in some ways, this has one terrible effect. You have school dinners three times a day.

Anyway, one term, the lady in charge of organising cooking for us decided to do 'healthy' food. Now, most of the time, the food was pretty good. Sometimes it was wonderful! This is what she decided to, er, put a stop to.

So... we had a few weeks of food that was fairly poor. Then, she pulled out all the stops, flexed her culinary muscles to breaking point, and produced something or other. It was like trying to eat the mutant offspring of a carpet tile and a bicycle tyre. In tomato sauce. I managed one small piece before throwing my now blunted knife away in disgust. I didn't see anyone (of about 60 people) eat any either.

The following day, apparently only ten people showed up for lunch at all. It was the truly delicious lasagne, with treacle tart to follow. I wish I'd been there.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:53, Reply)

Quiche queen
I think I've spoken on here before about my girlfriends INSANE sister.
She lived with us for four years (four years of my life gone, just like that!).
Amongs her many 'eccentricities' was that she could only cook four things. Four. She lived with us for four years and we had a cooking rota which meant she cooked every third day. you do the math...

Quiche - she had two varieties, tomato & basil or leak & blue cheese. Whichever she cooked, it would come out the oven a hot, wet mess (like a badly cooked omellete in a wet pastry case). It would leave a little puddle on your plate after you'd eaten it. I hate quiche in any form, let alone this.
Pasta charlotte - nothing like the real thing. This was pasta with tomato sauce backed in the oven until the consistancy was like blamange.
Pasta puttenesva - actually not bad the first 20 times I had it.
Mushroom Risotto - again not bad the first few times I had it.

Eating these four things on a continuous cycle for four years nearly drove me mad and stopped me from eating pasta or risotto for years (I don't eat quiche anyway on principal).

She left us over three years ago and we still get risotto every time we go round for tea.
(EvilMeister, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:42, Reply)

Grim
My grandad passed away not so long ago. We sold his house on, so we had to do a clear out.

He had a massive chest freezer in his cellar, from the dark ages it was. We decided to clean it out, defrost it and take it to the tip.

Now, as you'd expect it was a bit icy and that in there but what we didn't expect to find, after all the ice had gone was a packet of fish fingers wedged in the corner.

Now, that mightn't have been so amazing but for the fact that their sell by date was 1975. They were blue! BLUE FISH FINGERS FROM 1975.

My grandad was either very grim, or could never be arsed to defrost the freezer.

Either way, BLUE FISH FINGERS FROM 1975. It sounds like the name of a pretentious electro band from NYC.
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:37, Reply)

cylindrical pig
I once made my posh friend Bacon Grill on toast. He said it was lovely and asked what spices I'd used.

I laughed at the time but recently he had proper heart trouble. His girlfriend was crying but I'm fine and still eat it.

The spice I used was Flora Extra Light.
(elmyrde, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:14, Reply)

i once ate
a chocolate digestive covered in primula cheese, the one with the little bits of ham in it. both are delicious snacks when eaten separately, however, slightly vomit inducing when combined.
(serge-fabrizio taught the Talk to Frank robot to call him father, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:10, Reply)

Guinea Pig
Did the Lonely Planet tour of Peru in 1998. This generally consisted of going to restaurants described in the book as "a local favourite", only to find when you get there, a handful of other tourists clutching the same guidebook and looking equally perplexed by the lack of aforementioned locals. Anyway, at this particular place the house "speciality" was Guinea Pig. Being the adventurous sort, I thought, "fuck it I'll give that a sporting go". Felt slightly less adventurous when the Guinea pig arrived at the table, whole, flattened and with the distinct odour of burnt hair. And it was a bugger to eat too. Gave up after a few bites. Never actually saw a "local" eat one either. Hmmm...

*Picture isn't the one I ate, but very similar

(Mustard remembers when this were all fields, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:09, Reply)

Fishy Pizza
When I was a student I was trying to clear out the freezer in order to defrost it, so I got all the end-of-packet stuff out and came up with a four-cheese pizza and some fish fingers. So I put the fish fingers on the pizza and cooked it.

It was utterly vile.
(moogal has eggs, Thu 17 May 2007, 23:07, Reply)

"Meat dumplings"
... Or manti as they are known in Kyrgyzstan.

Our first full day there, the night after we discovered vodka was the equivalent of 40p per bottle. Feeling a bit delicate as we wandered around the local market. The meat hall was a trial even for me, a committed carnivore - whole sheep & goats were being gutted and butchered right there, the dripping entrails piled into plastic trays by cheerful babooshkas; bloody to their elbows.

The fermented mares' milk was worse; grey and stinking, with lazily pulsing bubbles forming a scummy head on the surface. But I'm not counting that, because I didn't go within 10 feet of it.

We needed something to settle our delicate stomachs, and at the little cafe, after much gesturing & fractured Russian / English, we ordered "meat dumplings". They duly arrived, looking like little cornish pasties that had been dipped in snot. Each slippery parcel contained a lump of gristle, some unidentifiable tubes, and a rancid grey grease that oozed out when you bit into them. Just to be polite, I managed one by smothering it in Heinz tomato sauce.

I've just discovered, the memory can still make me gag.
(simon shitting mason, Thu 17 May 2007, 22:54, Reply)

mmmm
The first time my wife tried cooking shrimp in a white wine sauce. Unforgetable.
"you have to cook it long enough to burn the alcohol off"
except she didn't. the taste of that, combined with garlic and thick double cream stayed with me for a looong time. Everytime I smell a wine and sea food combo I get the delicious mouth watering sensation that precedes a major vom session.

Also, I've often wondered what it is about bread that my dad find so difficult to deal with? He once made some sandwiches for work and promptly forgot his lunchbox, for the next three months. I swear when I finally tracked down the foul odour and threw them in the bin they'd turned green and had the texture of crushed velvet. He does it all the time, buys a loaf only to leave it in the cupboard/bread bin to sweat and mould until it becomes sentient. One morning I woke up to find one of Braces' medium sliced finest had climbed out of of the cupboard and thrown itself away in disgust*


*slight exageration
(Suddenly, zebras Safe and sound for eternity, Thu 17 May 2007, 22:45, Reply)

About expiry dates...
I eat my yogurt when the date has expired about a month ago. But it's on purpose and isn't terrible, it's delicious.
(fred foobar Yeah, whatever..., Thu 17 May 2007, 22:33, Reply)

I've got a strong stomach me......
I have always said dont knock it until you have tried it.
In that spirit of enquiry I once tried fermented bean sprouts at a japanese restaurant in Cardiff (generally good place) it was like eating the stuff you get when you leave a bag of salad in the fridge slimy and vile but with no actual flavour.
That isnt the worst thing I ever ate though.....

My baby brother got married, which is a perfectly normal thing to do. The thing is he got married at a truck stop, or at least that was where the reception was.
Mr mouse his mother and I travelled up the day before and stayed in the "hotel" attached to the service station that night. breakfast was in the canteen so I picked coffee and bacon and eggs. Mr Mouse (the fussy type with a weak stomach) got orange juice and cornflakes (mum in law slept in).
The morning conversation went something like this:

MM. Does this orange taste funny (spits out sip into napkin)

FM. Let me try (sips orange and swallows (its only polite)) Yes it tastes sort of fizzy thats odd, you had better not drink it not with your tummy.

later at registry office
FM. Hot in here isnt it

MM. Not especially

Later at truck stop while waiting for the party to start
FM. I think I need some air.

This was then followed by me re-enacting scenes from the exorcist with allied expulsions all night.
Him calling the doctor and going between our room to check on me and his mums room to check on her (dont expect her to talk to anyone un-aided).
The doctor said I had food poisoning (give the man a prize) and said I should rest and take fluids but we had to get his mum to Birmingham in the morning to catch her connection so she could be met at the other end by MM's cousin who would give her a lift home.

Cue me barely able to stand on a crowded hot train (I normally get motion sick when I'm not ill) I survived.... somehow.

At Birmingham we stuck her on a train and booked into a hotel just outside the station.

Phoned work to let them know I wouldnt be in the following day and passed out for 18 hours or so.


The Moral........
Dont go to weddings at truck stops.

I would appologise for length but he never does.
(frankiemouse, Thu 17 May 2007, 22:21, Reply)