Trends

…and not any trends that I can enjoy, either.  Here’s the first:

Trendy cafes ban ‘superfood’ [avocado]  amid fears they are damaging the environment and boosting criminal cartels

Seriously?  Feel free to read the whole thing, but it may make you ill when you see how the Trendy Elite justify total foolishness.  (Then, on the other hand, these are the same people who read the Guardian and the NYFT, and blindly vote Labour / Democrat [i.e. socialist], so small wonder they’re vapid idiots.)

But if you thought that was stupid, try this piece of utter bullshit:

Chef Heston Blumenthal reveals newfound taste for GRAVEL after adding pebbles and rocks from his garden to soup

So, to sum up the meals of the future:  avocados bad, gravel and pebbles good.

Got it.  Fucking morons.

Growing Market

I have spoken before of my irritation with unnecessary tinkering, specifically with gin.   Now I read that gin sales have gone through the roof:

Gin has moved from suburban cocktail parties to the height of fashion with a 276 per cent increase in sales in less than ten years, according to official figures.  A report from the Office of National Statistics (ONS) shows the value leapt from £130million to £461million since 2009, and Britain produces some three-quarters of all the gin made in Europe.

And why this growth?

On its own, gin is an unremarkable, albeit powerful, spirit, distilled from barley, maize or wheat.  However, the secret of its success and new found popularity comes from the many exotic flavourings that are added.

Chocolate gin?  Great Caesar’s aching liver.  And just to put the icing on my cake:

Today, gin has been reinvented for young adults with more than half of gin drinkers under 35.

[groan]

That’s just what I needed:  one of my all-time favorite drinks has become popular with snowflake millennials and hipsters, albeit after having had its taste changed into kiddie-type flavors.

Is it too early to have a Tanqueray?  If so, I think I’ll go out and kick a random hipster in the ass.  God, I hate “progress”.

Whatever

Apparently, a manufacturer of dog-piss beer is having trouble with a manufacturer of cat-piss beer.  Trust me:  this is a fight in which I have absolutely zero dog.  Frankly, if both “brewers” disappeared off the face of the planet, we’d all be better off.

I actually read the above article yesterday afternoon having just come from a very convivial lunch with Longtime Reader Zane H., said lunch including the following:

…and only the day before that I’d been chatting with Mr. FM, planning my next visit to FM Castle and assorted villainy Over There, to include lots of this:

…not to mention more and yet more of this:

  

So I think you can begin to discern the depth of my disinterest in the spat between MillerCoors and Pabst…

Gluttony

Oh FFS, I did NOT need to hear about this, from Marks & Spencer in Britishland:

A supermarket pie is proving so popular with the public that production is being doubled to keep up with customer demand.
M&S launched its ‘Our Best Ever Steak Pie’ last week, and had sold out in stores nationwide that same day as customers scrambled to get their hands on the meaty treat.
And now the high street giant has announced that the £6 pie, which serves two people, has become its fastest selling product ever – with 20,000 flying off the shelves in just two days.
On its second day of sales it moved into the top 10 bestsellers list – and is already on track to become number one.

And to make matters worse, here’s what it looks like:

[exit, drooling]

And You Thought We Were Exaggerating

Here’s a Vegan-Goes Crazy story from… Italy?

A 48-year-old Italian vegan has been ordered to pay her mother compensation after threatening to kill her for making traditional Bolognese meat sauce.
The smell of one of Italy’s most cherished dishes — ragù — was enough to set off a domestic disturbance that ended with the mother being threatened with a kitchen knife, a court heard.
Newly unemployed, the daughter had recently moved back in with her mother, who cooked in the typical tradition of rezdore, as housewives are called in the local Emilia Romagna dialect.
One of the signature dishes of every rezdore is Bolognese meat sauce, slow simmered for hours using a variety of meats including diced prosciutto cured ham, ground beef and sometimes chicken livers, then served over pasta or polenta.
Lawyers for the mother, who asked not to be named, said the family dynamic had degenerated due to irreconcilable conflicts over the mother and daughter’s different food cultures — the former heavy in butter, cream and meat, the latter exempt of all animal products.
The daughter told a court she’d long had “no sensory nor olfactory contact” with animal products before moving back in with her mother, for whom the rich, red meat sauce was standard fare.
Lawyers said there had been an escalation of aggressive episodes – always over food — before the threat that triggered the complaint.
Exasperated by the smell of meat sauce simmering for hours in the small apartment they shared, the daughter grabbed a knife and threatened to take matters into her own hands.
“If you won’t stop on your own then I’ll make you stop. Quit making ragù, or I’ll stab you in the stomach,” she said, according to the mum’s civil complaint.
Justice of Peace Nadia Trifilò sentenced the woman to pay a €400 court fine and ordered €500 be paid in compensation to her 69-year-old mother.
The case, argued in the Modena tribunal and reported by the local Gazzetta di Modena newspaper, stems from an argument that escalated out of control in March, 2016.
After failing to reach a peaceful mediation of the dispute over the last two years, the judge closed the case ruling in favour of the mother, ordering fines.

And this happened originally in 2016?  It’s just like Bill Sitwell and I said:  they’re getting out of control.

By the way, am I the only one who started to salivate at the description of that Bolognese sauce?

Of Course He Is

According to super-scold Kathleen Parker, God-Emperor Trump is responsible for the rise in booze consumption in the U.S.

More than 70 percent of Americans imbibe each year, and about 40 percent drink excessively, according to two separate studies last year. A comparison to 2014 data showed a 10 percent increase in the number of heavy drinkers.
I mention these sotted stats for context. Lately, at least from my perch on the porch, the evening cocktail has become less an aperitif than a medicinal slug made necessary by the alternative of ripping off my face. To bear witness to These Times In Which We Live is to go insane, join a cult or pour your favorite poison.

And what are “These Times In Which We Live”?  Well, Parker goes on to explain her reasons.  Mostly, they’re of the “Not Our Kind, Dear” (NOKD) sort, because Trump had rapper Kanye West over to the White House for a visit — I mean, my dear:  imagine having a rapper tread the hallowed halls of government?

Honestly, that thought doesn’t drive me to drink, although I think Kanye West is, to put it mildly, fucked in the head.  What would (and did) cause that reaction in me was when the President had the Prime Minister of Israel over, and made him leave out the back door like an unwanted encyclopedia salesman;  or doing the same or worse to the Dalai Lama of Tibet.  Okay, that was a different president — Barack Cocksucker Obama, actually — but you see my point.  Presidents can drive one to drink, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that important.

Trump probably is causing people to drink more, but different groups of people are doing so for different reasons.  Among socialists, people are drinking to drown their sorrow and rage (try not to giggle like a little girl when you follow that link):

    

…whereas we conservatives look on what Trump is doing to the socialist agenda, and are drinking in celebration:

  

And one of the joys of drinking Liberal Tears is that you can drink it either as a refresher, or as a mixer with your J&B.

So, to Kathleen Parker I say:  bottoms up!