Pickled Eggs Parsnips and Marmite

Marmite, Parsnips, Aubergines and Eggs. All belong in a box labelled “DANGER: HAZARDOUS TO HEALTH” and locked in a lead lined vault built into Rockall and forgotten about until the world ends.

Eggs especially. I’ve never been fond of eggs. I’ve always been suspicious about something that comes out of a chickens bottom.

Ah! You say, “Ah! But you like cake! Cake has egg! So does mayonnaise and pancakes” ah!! says I, “Ah! But I can’t see or taste the foul things!”

I mean really what you are eating when you eat an egg is chicken menses. Would you? Could you? Ewww. Dirty. Dirty and why would anyone want to pickle the fuckers? When I worked in the Health and Safety Executive I used to sit opposite a lovely girl called Claire. She was Irish and as any Englishman worth his salt will tell you Irish girls are stunning and Claire was no exception. But Claire had a serious fault. One thing that resulted in previously entranced males running a mile. Claire loved Pickled eggs. She also loved Pickled walnuts, pickled cabbage, pickled onions and even pickled pickles. But not just the pickled items.


The office would smell. Claire had this odour of pickling vinegar which she tried to disguise with a variety of fragrances but to no avail. Seriously! And so pickled things are also on my no list .

And then I get asked “What is it about Marmite and Parsnips that you despise so?” Well let me tell you. Marmite is nasty. Imagine eating ear wax. That really is as close to the flavour of Marmite as you can get. Ear wax. Ear wax with a bit of salt. Dirty dirty dirty. Not only that but Marmite is a yeast extract. A diet rich in yeast can encourage infections such as thrush, athletes foot, brain worms and even galloping knob rot. Everything about the foul stuff is wrong.

Make your own Marmite

Obtain as much ear wax as you can.
Add salt.

But what about parsnips?

Well Parsnips are deceitful animals. Nasty little fuckers sitting on your Sunday dinner plate masquerading as Roast potatoes. Imagine so looking forward to a crisp and crunchy roast potato so much that you can almost feel your teeth chatter at the thought of the crunchy bits. Then imagine the shock of biting into one of the fuckers only to find out its a fucking parsnip! Yeah well I wasn’t impressed. It put me off my dinner that day. Dirty, horrid, icky. But that’s not all, for along with Parsnips there’s fucking OLIVES. How people can eat olives I don’t know. Such people are the same people that turn their nose up at me eating lard, pork fat or bacon rind. It’s the same thing! Except in vegetarian format. Olives are the deceitful brethren of Parsnips. Why? Well imagine eating the most delicious salad you’ve ever eaten and you espy what you think is a grape. Grapes and Salad is very 1970s and quite vogue at the moment. But beware! So you’re eating this salad. It is a very tasty salad and you decide to leave the grape until the last bite, because you love grapes and the way to eat things is to always leave the best bit to last so you can enjoy and savour the food.

Then you bite into the “grape”. Only it’s not a fucking grape is it? NO! It’s a fucking OLIVE! Where you were expecting sweetness and juice you get bitterness and grease. There is only one thing worse than Marmite, olives and parsnips and that is Marmite basted parsnips in an Olive jus.

Oh and maybe liquorice.

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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