Forget ghosts, ghouls, and gout—there’s nothing scarier than an empty belly. This Halloween, feast upon the best of the week’s online deliciousness, courtesy of Instagram’s finest food porn.
My friend Caspar once cycled to Romania from Oxford, wearing a rucksack. When he finally dismounted, the colour of his testicles was truly something to behold. Still, it’s nice to see he’s got his stems out again. Good on you, Caspar.
Videos by VICE
Who doesn’t want to live in a time where you can lob the torn-out centre of a loaf of Nimble, scatter it gaily on top of a partially melted choc ice, surround your installation with an avalanche of small leaves, and earn yourself 2,376 likes in the process? What a time to be alive.
A constellation of sunflower seeds on an orb of orange squash may be the most autumnal thing to happen this week. (Since a squirrel tried to eat my handlebar tape, that is.)
You know those people who look really amazing in photos but, that one time you met them in a bar, turned out to have actually shaved their jawline onto a double chin and were wearing those shoes that do up with a toggle rather than laces? “Celeriac bolognese” is precisely what I’ll be calling those men from now on.
Of course we’re going to love the shelves of a woman who looks upholstered, rather than dressed. But my God, we never knew we had it so good.
Temping is a great life, isn’t it? The franking machine, the box files, all those nice Post-it note. Who wouldn’t want to spend their days answering info@ emails and ordering printer cartridges? It’s not like you could otherwise get a job sitting in the late autumnal sun, sorting through beautiful purple flowers… Oh. Oh.
When the olives grow like grapes and the Instagram servers whirr like jet engines.
Sometimes, the line between pickled gastronomic heaven and the basement of the Wellcome Collection is thinner than others. But it’s always there. Believe me. It’s always there.
I once took my mother’s entire collection of Willow pattern crockery to school in a bin bag, to “play Victorians” with my friend Catherine. Three hours later, I brought home a bin bag full of blue and white ceramic shards, a wig that looked like a cottage loaf, and a lifetime of remorse.
This is what I take folic acid for. Sure. I mean, sure. Absolutely. Yup. On ya. Right behind you. Same. I get it. Yuh huh. Great.
