The quirk of fate that will bring me through this

A few weeks ago, I bought these chips out of curiosity:


I ate a few, couldn't really work out the flavour, so I ate a few more. By my third handful, all I could taste was onions. I put the rest of the bag away and forgot about them until now.

Buy these chips, open the bag then fold the end over and leave it in a cupboard for three weeks. When they become a little bit chewy you'll understand. You'll eat three of them and throw the bag out.

THIS IS BECAUSE YOU CAN'T BE A REAL TREVOR.

You wouldn't know the difference between biting into a sausage roll in a bun that's been kept in a hamper overnight versus a fresh roll.

YOU DO NOT WANT THE FRESH ROLL.

The fresh roll will cut the roof of your mouth with it's delightful crispy freshness. The chewy roll will assist the heavily spiced offal with generic bottled sauce by encouraging mastication.

NEVER FORGET THIS.

If you haven't yelled your personal equivalent of "HAI SENSEI!" at your computer yet, you should consider going somewhere else. You're either too much of a Trevor, in which case this site will crush your soul, or you aren't enough of a Trevor, in which case you'll only be looking at this site 'ironically' even though it isn't technically ironic if I try to be funny at any point. I'll put special ***IRONY SPOILER*** tags around anything if it comes up for you folk but only if you make the effort to be a Trevor, even in an ironic sense. It will help the cause.

From reading my posts so far, you might think that Trevor is a derogatory term. It is neither a compliment nor an insult. It is nothing to be desired, yet nothing to be ashamed of. You can fuck off if your name is Trevor even if you've been alive for 8000 years. Especially if you've been around for 8000 years. You'd obviously be inferior and in need for replacement. I am here to replace you, 8000 year old Trevor. Progress is a bitch.