Dear Beans,
It has been a whole twenty-one years since I was born. I do not remember being born, however I am told that it was a most awful and harrowing experience for everyone involved. Indeed, there are no photos of my birth because I am reliably informed that to remember such a day one would have to be the largest of sadomasochists possible.
Anyway, the reason for my letter has nothing to do with that; I wanted to proceed with a strong opener. My problem stems from something I have had since birth. It is not something that is easy to talk about so I am hoping that we can keep this between me and you.
I have the most unique hair. It is made out of noodles so I cannot go outside when it is raining. When I try to cry over something emotional, such as the film ‘The Quest’ starring everyone ever, instead of water tears I weep tears made of rice. When I get stabbed by local gang members I bleed tomato sauce, and I get followed home by hungry dogs and cats, licking the floor behind me.
This has stopped me from living a normal life. The last time I went out with someone I woke up one morning to find him nibbling on my forehead, trying to concoct some sort of bizarre tomato sauce noodle breakfast arrangement. In fact I am convinced he was trying to assemble a makeshift Virgin Mary.
My confidence is at an all time low. Can you help?
Yours convincingly
Camerra Von Plusbeets
19 comments on “Dear Beans… Foolproof Food Face Fiasco”
Dear Camerra,
No, I don’t think I can help. But if you feel like it’s all too much and you want to end your suffering, I will gladly boil up a big pan for you and put some garlic bread in the oven.
Chris
Christopher!
How could you be so callous? This poor lady… thing needs guidance, care and consideration. At the very least we could turn her into something classy, like a risotto.
Fool! You don’t make a risotto with noodles or tomato sauce. I’d rather add some crunchy vegetables and a dash of soy sauce to turn her into a delicious stir fry.
Cad! Of course I know that noodles and tomato sauce do not belong in a risotto, even with my limited (and I do mean limited) culinary experience.
My point was that she deserves better than a mere bolognaise.
Well, definitely. I wonder if she could be turned into a spicy tomato noodle soup, so that a larger number of people can enjoy her delicious flavours?
Now you’re talking. My belly be rumblin’ now the ‘gredients be fumblin’!
Are they “fumblin’”? They could easily be cookin’ and I could understand it if they were marinatin’, but fumblin’ seems to be beyond them.
Yeah. They’re fumblin’ because they’re in a constant state of movement, because we’re cookin’. That’s how cookin’ works, right?
I’m not sure fumblin’ is the right word for that. How about movin’? Fumblin’ would suggest they’re lookin’ for somethin’.
But movin’ doesn’t rhyme with rumblin’. You can’t have your belly rumblin’ now the ‘gredients be movin’. That’s seven shades of wrong.
I didn’t know the word had to be rhymin’. What about jumblin’? Could they be jumblin’?
Yes, and that is actually basically literally superbly a better word than the one I concocted.
CONCOCTED!
You didn’t concoct it, you just used in inappropriately. Now go sit over there and think about what you’ve done.
Can I think about spoodles and splodges at the same time?
He also used the word concocted inappropriately.
I think we need to have a conversation about how, just because you know a word, doesn’t mean you can use it to mean anything you like.
Yes, yes I think we do. It might reduce Ian’s vocabulary significantly though, is it worth the risk?
I am pizza.
If you’re pizza then I ate you for the first time last autumn.
You did good. You pizza champion. You should have a second go and film that.