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By: Peemil.

Chocolate sprinkles are real hoity nosh aren't they?

A well known food critic- I fail to remember who- once called them the "Caviar of the Dessert World."

Although in this instance, they are entirely correct, food critics generally say alot that is complete bollocks. In general too, they are gay. Much like chefs.

I'm not sure about the sexuality of TV chef and all-round wanker, Jamie Oliver, but I'm sure he has probably stuck it in the brown pie in the kitchen. Or maybe the attic? Wherever it was, I'm sure there was a deep fryer there.

For those who are scratching their heads and wondering what type of people have deep fryers in their attics- I'd counter with this. Only smart people have deep fryers in their attics, so therefore, not being part of this exclusive club, you are now technically a stupid pillock. Why not do us all a favour and head out the back to top yourselves for not realising that there may come a time that you will want a fry up of wedges and sour cream, or your grandfather's ashes next time your poking around looking for clothing that went out of fashion twenty years ago for a fancy dress party?

Regardless of the state of your intelligence and attic, what Jamie Oliver proves is the eternal maxim: "It doesn't need to smell of fish to be a cunt."

I don't think, being a cunt, that Jamie Oliver would be too keen on chocolate sprinkles.

I'm sure he'd make up some bullshit about grating up some chocolate he bought from an obscure, wankey shop that is the feces of a Belgian man, force fed cocoa, chocolate and milk, and then hand moulded into something they can sell for an outlandishly exuberant price in some upscale shop, with terrible house music on the P.A, and some guy behind the counter called, "Ray Ray the Gay Gay."

Personally, I've always wanted to see a naked woman, with a bottle of schnapps up her arse, rolling around on a bed of chocolate sprinkles.

A quick Google search reveals that it maybe a while.

Maybe if I wrote to Christina Ricci she might do it for me? Or at least do it and send me the photos?

I don't like my chances though. She still hasn't written back from the last letter I sent her.

I think she'd probably be concerned about chocolate sprinkles getting into her nether-regions.

Probably not the schnapps bottle though. I'm holding out that she's real kinky like that.


Above: Chocolate sprinkles before they race for the ovum.