Here's an example of how my imagination can run a little out of control at times. First I must start by stating, unequivocally, that my wife is a great cook. She can turn anything into a great meal and is never afraid to tackle a new recipe and experiment to make her own. Indeed when I was ill recently she kept me from going insane with boredom by taking me on a culinary world tour for four weeks.
Last night we had Rissoles (spicy meatballs without the sauce) and as usual they were delicious and were consumed with the usual accompanying noises of happy diners. Then we started joking about the name, Rissoles. Sounds sort of like Rizzo the Rat from the Muppet's. This is where the conversation started to get a little weird for the dinner table...
So maybe our Rissoles were not made from Pork but from Rat meat. There are plenty of rats where I live. In recent years we have seen growing numbers in our local park. The borough council would have us believe that the increasing rat population has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that rubbish/trash is now collected in bags from the street as opposed to the 'old fashioned' way, from a solid metal bin. Whatever the truth of the matter the rat population is on the rise. James Herbert would be thrilled.
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