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but so right
Except when you get one with a hair on it.
but to some, these can also be highly desirable.
Ha ha ha ha ha :D
Just edges out Pepperami and Cheeselets.
I adore pork scratchings. Especially when you unexpectedly get a soggy one.
and dry-roasted peanuts?
And salted > dry roasted. Clearly.
a photo of someone rubbing my face with a very hairy pork scratching.
but must be accompanied with a correct mix of seasoning and spices or else are rendered no more than 'meh'.
They're no scratching, but they're not THAT bad!
My Grandfather, a great, ox of a man was tragically killed in a submarine off the coast of North Africa during the First World War.
My parents were mysteriously killed in what I was a told was a fishing accident, although I had my doubts…..
I was raised by Casey, my life coach, inspiration and mentor. Casey had always warned me off the dangers of a diet, high in saturated fat and cholesterol if I was ever to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps. He put me on a strict training program from an early age. I would wake at 5am every day, 4.30am on a Sunday and run 8 miles on wet sand to the local gym wearing a suit of armour.
When I hit puberty, hormones went crazy and I started to loose focus. My mentor, a pony-tailed former Navy Seal, turned chef spotted this instantly. I was castrated and given a point of hatred for which I would centre all of my attention on. The arch nemesis I was given was the Pork Rind.
As a 12 year old boy, the thought of having a common snack as an arch nemesis not only scared but mind bogglingly confused me; why a snack? Why a porky one? why not a living being?
One day I received a mysterious package from an unknown sender. The package contained newspaper clippings from the early 80’s when I would have been a very small child. The clippings revealed the truth behind my parent’s death.
It turned out that before joining the army, my hero, my great grandfather had owned a pork rind factory, My Father had inherited and subsequently worked with my Mother at the factory. Hand in hand, they would perform monthly routine checks on the huge steel vats of cooked pig skin. One day my mother tragically slipped on an undercooked, soft pork rind and fell in the vat. My father dived in to save her but also perished – death by pork rind asphyxiation. Still, he died a hero.
Why everyone had lied to me all these years confused me to a point of uncontrollable hatred. I beat up a fat kid at school whose nickname was pork grind and got expelled. Soon, people in the street started looking like giant pork grinds. I was sure that even the people I loved the most were against me, it hit hard and I fell off the rails.
I decided at the tender age of 14 after a weekend alone binging on Orange Hooch that I would try my first pork rind and since, have never looked back….
I could not believe my taste buds! The rich sensuous flavours of the cooked to perfection pig skin blew my little mind. The texture, sometimes nice and crunchy, sometimes curiously soft made me question my former life as future naval hero in training. I abandoned my mentor and decided to start making decisions for myself.
I told the naval recruiter that I did not want to enlist. Up to that point in my life I had been following my mentor’s advice. That was my first major decision, albeit a bad one upon reflection, but my decision none the less…mine! After that I started being more independent and making my own choices for good or bad. In other words I started living my life instead of letting others live it for me.
In summary, despite the fact that pork grind’s killed my parents and ruined my childhood, they are wonderful, wonderful things that should be treasured by all.
i was mistaken when i bought some :(
I once had to buy three packets from the pub when a friend had the after-grass munchies and had already consumed two. Skinny as anything as well, the cow.
however I ate 2 burger kings this weekend while cunted so, who knows?!
I really don't like the powdery ones
will be sold as 'human scratchings' in the public houses of a post-apocalyptic dystopian society presided over by super-intelligent piggies. think on before you eat.
They have to be good ones mind.
always have done, the ones with the gooey soft center though take the piss a bit too much to the point i wish who ever invented this 'snack' would look hard in the mirror n die of shame.