Ladies who lunch. AKA Bloatmonger bistros / Office obesity / Greedy fat bastards

There are three types of lunch (or "dinner" as we say oop north):

Lunch at work
Lunch at home
Lunch with friends
Lunch ootanaboot

Actually, that's four..

Lunch at work
If you're normal, you get about half an hour for a lunch break, usually taken at your desk where you throw much of your food over your keyboard. The following is a pictorial representation of the typical contents of my lunch bag:



Added to this is usually a yoghurt and lots of fruit. Just right to get you through the day and to keep your bowels in tip top condition. Of course, Bachelor's minetstrone cup a soup has the added bonus of not only representing all the five major food groups, but also contributing to the government's "Five a day" fruit and veg programme. Well, there are about five bits of dehyrdated onion, carrot and green stuff in there.


Lunch at home
This usually consists of something like something on toast (sardines, egg, etc), a sandwich, or maybe even a bowl of cereal.


Lunch with friends
Usually try to make this a bit nicer by having nice bread, or stuffed pittas with a bit of salad or something like that.


Lunch ootanaboot
This can be anything, but is usually more substantial to provide enough fuel to go shopping, traipse about and shit like that. Lunch ootanaboot can also include a pudding if you go to Cafe Concerto in York (just near the Minster, and very nice it is too) and maybe even a milk shake (strawberry).


Lunch at work - the return
Working in a female-dominated environment, the types of things that women have for their dinner (oops, slipping into northern there) is baffling. Remember, you've got up to half an hour to prepare it, scoff it, chew and let it reach reach your stomach before getting back to business of saving the NHS.

Today I was thrilled to see somebody preparing bruschetta with mozzarella and fresh basil:

I've also seen women gorge themselves on delights such as:

Pasta

Greek salad, and

Risotto

How can they be bothered? And why aren't they really fat - do they not eat for the rest of the day after gorging themselves in front of the rest of us? Is it some sort of cruel conspiracy by waif-like wenches to make all the rest of us feel guilty for having a Dairy Lea cheese triangle in our packed lunch?

These are usually the same women who only wash their hair once a week, yet still have their bowl of cereal at their desks when they get in to work because they "haven't got time in the morning". No, so you'll steal your wages instead will you? Two words: Logan's run.

Oh hang on, I'm errmm, nearly 35.... Or was it Soylent Green?

Anyway.

On another point, if Flickr wasn't so bloody slow, then perhaps impatient little Chimps wouldn't be kept waiting for posts that aren't that good because they've been rushed! A programme about neighbours from hell is guaranteed to get me put into a psychiatric ward for my own safety.