I know I'm straying ever so close to writing about work things, but there's something about being re-immersed in the semi-fictive universe of employment, the city, etc [of which "'"'"'Popworld'"'"'" is one glamorous color-filled sattelite] every monday that invariably brings the hyenas of irritation guffawing round my door. get this. I was in well-known sandwich emporium 'pret a manger' - which is french for 'nearly food for cattle' - earlier, accompanying a butty-buying buddy. They vend a product called a 'no bread sandwich'.
I bet there's some marketing kid on a zillion pounds a minute being applauded throughout vast marbled boardrooms at Pret-a-deranger Towers for that particular bit of semantic sleight-of-hand. Here is what their own sorry Pret-a-pleurir web dungeon says:
No Bread Sandwich More than Mozzarella:
"Its not a sandwich and its not a salad. Its new and the answer to a good low carb, light lunch.Mozzarella, bistro mix, spinach, avocado, sliced tomatoes, basil, pine nuts, black olives and a drizzle of french dressing."
Hmmm - salad ingredients... plus a dressing... in a dish with a fork. That IS a fucking salad! Pret-a-vomir's "no bread or apostrophes" terminology be damned! And it's not 'an answer to a good low carb light lunch', it just IS a low carb light lunch! Whose life has degenerated to the point where low carb light lunches interrogate their every waking step? Apart from me writing this shit, I mean? And, apart from anything else, I'm seated as I type - and half-asleep.
'More than mozzarella', IAY.
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