
Okay put your arm up* and admit it, whenever you’re around incense sticks you have the overwhelming urge to seize and consume them. We sure as heck do, which is why our esteemed editor, Mr. Wapojif, has ended up with several third degree burns all over his face and tongue. Truly, his status as a moron is unrivalled!
Some of our more conventional readers may consider incense sticks those pungent things which hippies used to wave about, most notably at Woodstock when Richie Havens took to the stage in ’69. Whatever, let’s all face up to reality and realise incense sticks would be delicious on toast. This is why we’ve invented our latest dish, the fabulous smelling and largely delicious carbohydrate and smoke combo!
Incense Sticks On Toast
Incense is an unusual thing. We’re pretty sure it’s half smoke and half mineral. To get incense sticks to do their thing, one must set them on fire. There aren’t many other things with such a brutal purpose. If you got a walking stick and set it on fire, for instance, it would be a pretty useless walking stick. Indeed.
It goes without saying you’ll need incense sticks for this recipe. It’s the key ingredient, you know… otherwise you just have some toast. We recommend you buy about a dozen packs of differently flavoured incense sticks and arrange about 50 of the things on some freshly toasted toast. At this point you must engage your flamethrower (readily available at your local supermarket) and let forth with a few engulfing blasts.
Whilst this may terrify your family and pets (especially if you cackle insanely whilst firing the flamethrower), ignore their pathetic whinnying in favour of your despotic pursuit of delicious foodstuffs. Indeed, Incense on Toast packs a mighty pungent kick and you’d be a raving lunatic to miss out on this recipe!
I’m Incensed Enough To Try This!
Good for you! We generally believe incense is supposed to calm one’s nerves and make one at one with nature, but sometimes you have to do away with traditions and embrace your need to slake your hunger. In addition, whilst acquiring a flamethrower may appear excessive, do be aware you do use the device for other household activities such as: cleaning your toilet, getting a haircut, alienating your neighbours, incinerating your limbs, visiting hospital, and getting arrested.
The dish itself isn’t much to write home about, to be honest. On a flavoursome front it kind of tastes like charcoal with a pungent aftertaste of mother nature. Kind of like eating a pork scratching that’s been left out in the sun and that’s had 1,000 disease ridden flies crawling all over it. Indeed, it’s rather one to avoid… but at least you get to use a flamethrower!
Hahahahaha awesome.
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Aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie. Innit.
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83% of incense sticks are bought by people who go into Asian supermarkets, forget what they intended to buy, and in order to avoid looking utterly schtoopid, play it safe and grab some incense.
**cough**
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It’s a true story! I often wander into Asian supermarkets and leave with several metric tonnes of instant noodles – all for about 50p! Bargain.
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It mystifies me why people fork out for over expensive second rate stuff when the original is available at an Asian supermarket for a fraction of the price.
I save a small fortune on coconut oil and fish sauce alone, never mind the quails eggs…
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By expensive second rate stuff I presume you’re referring to Pot Noodles? How dare you, sir!!! They’re a national treasure. Actually, I made a Pot Noodle Sandwich on this blog a while ago which was positively repulsive. £1.50 it cost. The carbohydrate hit was like no other!
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Nay, Mr. Wilkes! Calm thi’sen!
The target of me titters was the good folks hereabouts who hand over far too much brass for stuff like coconut oil. About 8 quid a jar they pay. 8 quid!!!! I get mine for 2 quid fifty at the Chinese place in town.
Pot Noodles are indeed something else. To me they’ve always looked like something they would have tested on Beagles chained up in cages back in the bad old days. I went through a stage of eating them fairly regularly some time ago, curiously enough just before developing a particularly bad case of pneumonia…
Your Frankenwich reminds me of an evil little concoction I used to cobble together out of sheer desperation – Kwik Save own brand baked beans and red lentil broth. It was like Redex for humans. Bleach and battery acid would probably have been more gentle on the old tubes…
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Manuka Honey’s the most confusing one. It’s like £50 a jar! What in the name of why?! It’s honey! The celebs tell us it gives us superpowers, but we’ll never know as we’re too poor to afford the stuff! Oh well, there’s always theft.
Pot Noodles cause pneumonia? Yowza. Oh man, baked beans! Kwik Save style… does that shop exist anymore? I remember Netto. Netto Beans… it didn’t get any better. Pop Tart and Netto Beans broth would be awesome.
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Is that Royal Jelly? I thought jelly was made from ground up cows feet. Is that why it’s expensive, because it takes bees so long to grind up the cows feet with their tiny little mandibles?
I have a sneaking suspicion that Kwik Save were out-cheapo’d by the opposition, especially Aldi. Aldi was great in the early days, all those German products. Eeeeh, mother, that was a truly scrumptious Überoffenäaschentellerplankengnoffstikken, and no mistake.
We have a Netto near us. Scary looking people go into it…
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I did look up why it was so expensive but it was some convoluted method I’ve not bothered remembering. I’ll stick with normal honey, thanks.
Yeah, Aldi’s been the trailblazer in the cheapo department. Rola Cola, as Peter Kay said, 18 litres for 40p. Can’t argue with them prices. I’m chuffed to hear Netto is still running but, my word, I think you need to be a hardened Northerner to enter. ‘ecky thump.
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