Repentance is the vomit of the soul

Food and pubs go together like frogs and lawnmowers, vampires and tanning salons, mittens and Braille. Pubs don’t do food; they offer internal mops and vomit decoration

Sometimes I wish I were a cannibal – less for the pleasure of eating someone than for the pleasure of vomiting him.

For what we are about to eat, may the Lord make us truly not vomit.