The Peanut Diaries

Unpacking my life in my new Oxford flat has been tiring and long. No less than twice I've typed you a post, lost it in an unlikely accident, and gone "Ach, it wasn't that good anyway". Just as a tease, I'll let you know that the titles were "Mariko Celeste" and "The name of the game". Feel free to send in your own versions of these posts.

Anyway, I've finally finished putting all my stuff away. Now I have a clear view of the carpet, a bulging wardrobe, and a box stuffed with paper destined for the recycle bin. One piece that has been temporarily saved is a scrap of paper from my first year in Oxford, a time when I had no kitchen facilities. I ate every meal in hall, and consequently gained about five kilos.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Peanut Diaries.

September 2nd
Discovered dinner in hall was already over, due to some official event. Growing weak from hunger, so go to Sainsbury's local: Buy loaf of bread, sandwhich spread, tea, sugar, tons of biscuits, chocolate and a jar of J. Sainsbury's All-American Wholenut Peanut Butter. The future's bright.

8.45 p.m.
Deep in Complex numbers, I pop the lid and stab my way through the foil. I eat a spoonful 'au naturel'. It's like eating the planet Earth. Megin-rific.

November 3rd
Ate another spoonful doing rocket problems. If anything, it's even stiffer than yesterday. With Digestive biscuit = yum.

November 4th
Freshly excavated, it looks rather like that cliff in Denmark.
Made a sandwhich. This dilutes it and is inefficient. I won't be doing this again.

November 5th
Mechanics is beutiful. Complex numbers are a bastard. Spread on a Twix. It's extremely good. This is confectionary for MEN.

November 9th
Either the nuts were on top or I have gotten used to it, but it seems smoother.
Ate some spread onto a Caramel bar. I'm more than halfway through. I feel like that is an achievement.

November 12th
Had a spoonful dipped in sugar. I may have gone to far.

November 13th
I've realised that when I eat this stuff i feel physically stronger. This might be a Popeye kind of syndrome.

November 15th
There's a tinny taste. I hope it's not aflotoxin. (See The Human Factor, Graham Greene)

November 17th
It's gone, and here it ends.
Until the next time I miss a meal.



Song in my head: "Auf Achse" by Franz Ferdinand