"A tea-bag?".
Of course we all remember how hilarious it was when the famous Lady Cracknell blurted that immortal line out in Sir Oscar Wilder's renowned play "The Earnestness of Importance".
Sadly, it was far from hilarious when I blurted it out, flummoxed to bingo, in the midst of a meal.
For I had discovered a teabag in my stew!
Surprisingly amazed I was at the awful discovery on a visit to partake of the latest cuisinery efforts of Twin of Evil No.1.
Munching my way through part-cooked root vegetabalia and pulses in a liquid closely resembling something akin to gravy, I began chewing on something rather ghastly. No matter how I chewed, it would not break down under the assault of my fearsome mandibles.
I extracted the offending article from my gob and found it to be none other than a teabag of the teabag sort.
"Bucket Gah Knee," explained my lascivious hostess, dribbling down her harness.
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