Yeah, winter's around the corner
There’s a crisis looming. A surfeit of cheap mince-pies came on offer at the main island outlet. And when I say cheap, I mean less than a bag of chips – although having said that, it’s such a long time since I bought a bag of chips my comparison of prices may be a bit off. The last time chips were bought sans poisons – or even avec – was…. Oh I don’t know. A while back anyway. And what with the hike in prices I may have lost touch. Still, I bought several boxes of pies of the mince over-consumerist-capitalist faux-christmassy type.
I have been putting in some design-time for an on-going photographic project [that is; I thought of a snap to take] and the mince-pies lurking within the packaging on the table in the warming-room came to mind. And I was tad peckish after a long afternoon’s meditation. The box was soon opened and the first of the ‘fine’ [I use the term loosely] food items within consumed. And then I noticed the other items – crushed to a pulp. Mashed and cracked, dead, nailed to their perch. No wonder the very reasonable cost.
Fearing for my lungs from the dust, the pies were soon wrapped within the tums of this household. I should imagine that the ‘erb who dropped the case of pies from a great height in the storeroom or lowered the half-ton of bottled Highland water on top of the case of pies is now lurking down Francis Street as we speak awaiting the Lack-of-Jobs-Centre to open in the morning.
I wondering if there is going to be an outbreak of ‘mince-pie-lung’ [© Wiesmier] in years to come as a result of the miasma of mince-pie dust on that fateful day.