You know, technically McVitie’s chocolate digestives are chocolate-coated on the bottom. You can sort of prove it by realising that they’ve imprinted their logo on the reverse side to the chocolate, or by opening a pack at the end that says ‘open here’ and examining how they’re stacked.
The main thing is though, it doesn’t actually matter does it? I mean who cares other than the pedants and the pernickiters? I’ll eat them upside down, I’ll stack them on the plate upside-down, and I don’t think Mr McVitie will care a crumb about it.
By the way, I imagine Mr McVitie to be like a sort of Mr Monopoly character - a round-faced baker in a top hat and enormous moustache. He bangs his chunky fists on the table a lot and bellows in Glaswegian at people who don’t take biscuits seriously.
He’s not though, bothered about which way round his biscuits go. “As long as they buy ‘em,” he roars, “I’ll keep makin’ em, eh Tunnock?”
Tunnock wonders whether to laugh or not and nervously twiddles a tea-cake wrapper. “Aye, Mr McVitie, aye.”
It’s the same thing for Jaffa cakes, isn’t it? I mean there’s a thing, an item of confectionary perfection with the word cake in its name, going hard when you leave it out (like a cake) and legally proven to be a cake for tax reasons, and yet still some people think it’s a biscuit.
It’s not, but the point is it doesn’t matter. At least not since 1991 when McVitie’s (yes, the same McVitie I suppose) baked a giant one to prove it in a courtroom. Gosh he’s behind a lot isn’t he, old McVitie? Talk about ‘big bakery’.
Anyway, it‘s been a slow day, and I’ve been making cups of tea at my Mum’s and keeping conversation up. You know, the older I get, the more I think there are more things to get het up about than chocolate biscuits.
No comments:
Post a Comment