Right

So Munich is great and all. Fantastic, actually, if we’re going to be honest. And we are. We are going to be honest. Not as honest as my grandmother was yesterday when she related all of the bowel movements she experienced throughout the day, including their raucous conclusion (I need to take the time out to say EWWWWW), but honest enough to tell you if you’re looking “tired”. You are, by the way. You should get some sleep.

And right back to my point we go. Munich is fantastic except for one tiny (but really MAGNANIMOUS) thing. It doesn’t have – nor understand the need for – salt and vinegar chips. It doesn’t understand the need for any kind of flavoured chip, for that matter. Other than paprika. And paprika is a bit like dating your model friend’s slightly below-average sibling – you’re constantly fighting the need to scream “you ruined my waistline for nothing you filthy whore” (at the mirror).

Therefore there was a very measurable, very easily graph-able, decline in our interest in paprika chips. It went a little like this:

Right. So when I came to Australia for an unexpected visit you know what happened, right? Because you know Australia has every flavour of chip ever conceived (of course it does). Australia even has Vegemite-flavoured chips (OF COURSE IT DOES).

So you know what happened, right?