I love biscuits, they are the perfect snack. With a cup of tea, just the one or a whole packet lol. But what is the ultimate biscuit? The one that is perfect for all and every occasion.
Well with a nice cup of tea one could argue that the rich tea is King. It has excellent tea-ability, i.e. resistance to dissolution and tea taste retention capability. In otherwords, no limp biscuits for us. To make it perfect for every occasion, indulge in the chocolate-coated variety.
Here's a joke that really takes the biscuit:
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite biscuits wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite biscuits, freshly baked.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in crumpled posture.
His aged and withered hand trembled towards a biscuit at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula.............
'FAQ off' she said, 'they're for the funeral'.
Well with a nice cup of tea one could argue that the rich tea is King. It has excellent tea-ability, i.e. resistance to dissolution and tea taste retention capability. In otherwords, no limp biscuits for us. To make it perfect for every occasion, indulge in the chocolate-coated variety.
Here's a joke that really takes the biscuit:
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite biscuits wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs. With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite biscuits, freshly baked.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in crumpled posture.
His aged and withered hand trembled towards a biscuit at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a spatula.............
'FAQ off' she said, 'they're for the funeral'.
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1 comment:
Hahahaha what an amazing joke.
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