All Things Can But Not Neccesarily Should

Never before has food been quite so contentious and disgusting.

Ladies and Gentlemen - I give you - The Lasagnwich! The Lasagnwhat? You heard!



Suddenly there is temptation to start speaking like Peter Kay and walking around shouting and pointing in mock disbelief:

"Lasagnnnnwich"?

"Lasagne! In a sandwich?"

"A sandwich ? With lasagne in it"?

Yes - with a mighty dollop of mayonnaise slathered in between both sides presumably to help the starch slip down with yet more fatty imbued starch I guess. It could be worse - it could be deep-fried? Or god forbid in a tin like this poor unfortunate and rather flaccid looking whole albino chicken covered in what looks like obstetric scan gel?



I dread to think what else comes from Sweet Sue's Kitchen - but perhaps I'll save that for another post. In my forays I did come across a whole tinned cheddar which when grated looked like maggots on a platter. Apparently it goes down a storm in Australia due to the lack of fridges. Again, mind boggles.

Anyway, back to sandwich's. Imagine if you could get a sandwich in a can? Pardon the pun but you can! Well you were going to before the inventor took the $153 million investment money and spent it all on real estate, fast cars and horses for himself.



Actually I think he has done the world a favour - these won't be seeing the light of day now until the fraud case has been decided. Candwichman will be eating a different sort of sandwich from now on and in a different and rather ironically named new home - the can!



Can you dig it?

Sayonara toodlepip children.

The Complaints Dept Is Open

Goodness - it has been a long time. Seems that I have had a bit of a blogblock but am slowly overcoming it. Below is a bloody brilliant bit of complaining that my Dad has submitted to Jacky at the rather Kafa-esquely named Olympic Delivery Authority - Planning Decisions Team (what?):



In our time we have seen some vacuous bombast from Mr. Kapoor but this is literally astonishing in it's incoherence. The metallic surface/colour is that seen on pound shop flasks. It displays an utter lack of any indication of form/function/dynamic [see adjacent stadium & Thames basin light] and 'connecting' with the senses. The 'movement' of the whole - it's energy, is that of a coat-whirling lout drunk on cider at an Iron Maiden gig - circa 1980., or a Hammer Throw gone very, very, wrong.

Within the context of the site it looks as if a rogue scrap merchant has dumped this overnight, to despoil a site as would the worst of graffiti on a clean building. What is required is a clean simplicity that does reach for the stars - as does the 'Shard' . The very sight of the 'orbit' brings a shudder engendered by the worst of totalitarian monsters, the ethos of threat, oppression and thuggish dogma. Even the base entrance/platform is a dull hostile box - think 1950's army barracks. An accident that looks as if has already happened, or is delayed in time. It is vulgar to the point of insult.

It has no remarkable post-Olympic function such as a concert arena in the sky. Even though sheathed in it's lurid metallic lustre, being steel it will eat up maintainence funds when the east winds prevail October through April. I'm sorry, but we object and in the strongest terms possible. Thank you - JE.



Oooh Papa! Nay, nay and thrice nay!