Hungry brain is hungry

Is it wrong to have a rather strong desire to spend hundreds of pounds on tickets, transport and accommodation just to have some unspecified food from a place? It’s times like these I think my brain is telling me I should be some kind of food-based journalist, so I don’t have to spend my own money doing all this stuff.

For you see, I keep getting massive cravings for American food. They do food. Badass food. Stupid food. 99 cent slices of pizza that are bigger than a standard UK pizza and are brilliant. Burgers made from the best beef ever. Massive, massive plates of stodge. Christ, I’d even take American mashed potatoes right now (I’m only down on them because they’re not my awesome masheroos). And OH the bottomless coffee is the best thing in the world.

I think I’m saying I want to go back to America. It’s taken a long time to sink in but I think I’m a fan of the place. From an international perspective there’s a lot to dislike, be worried about, scared of or laugh at. But there? You’re on the ground with everyone else AND THEY DO GOOD FOOD.

So if anybody wants to send me on a culinary quest around the US, feel free to pay for it. It’ll be like Man vs Food, except I haven’t got the trained actor charisma Adam Richman has and I don’t actually want to get husky like he is. Oh, and it’d be less fucking disgusting. I love that show.

God, I’m hungry.


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