L’evidence : Tonight I cooked for myself a delicious, organic corn on the cob. Personally I prefer the frozen ones but these were on special offer in the supermarket and I’m a thrifty fucker at the best of times so I bought them. With the corn I had a steak.

It was delicious, thanks for asking, but afterwards I was left with corn and bits of meat stuck between my teeth. I cannot floss as the sensation of it makes me want to puke. I always feel like I’m going to either pull one of my teeth out or give myself a paper-cut style cut which would not stop bleeding for days.

I am, as I write this, tongueing away madly trying to remove these bits of food. Some of them nearly come loose then go back into their hidey holes. I have brushed my teeth twice but the stuff is still there.

Has it ever occured to anyone that humans have stopped evolving? Because if we still were we wouldn’t have loads of different teeth which get stuff stuck between them, we’d have one giant tooth on the top and one giant tooth on the bottom with different shapes, ridges and lengths depending on where it was in your mouth. But the overall structure would be uniform.

You cannot get something caught between one thing. It is physically, scientifically and melodically impossible.

I’m now swooshing with red wine to help dislodge some of the debris but I just know that some time on Friday I’m gonna move my tongue around and out will come a kernel of corn. And after I eat that kernel it will come out exactly the same in my poo. But that’s a story for another day.

Le Verdict : Teeth are great but shockingly badly designed, leaving us mere mortals to re-chew our dinner way after we’ve finished, the enamel Le Cunts.

L’evidence : Americans make lots of great stuff. Like the Rockford Files, the Cadillac, Monster Trucks and mountains with giant faces carved into them but one thing they cannot do well is make beer.

The most famous American beer is, of course, Budweiser. It is vastly popular in Ireland even though it is like drinking carbonated gnat’s urine. Look at the picture below. On the left is a pint of Budweiser. On the right a pint of fizzed up insect piss.

If Budweiser were meat it’d be porcupine chops. If Budweiser were a place it would be the Isle of Man. If Budweiser were a fruit it would be an avocado, utterly bland. If Budweiser were a former English Prime Minister it would be John Major. If Budweiser were a band it would be Westlife. If Budweiser were a solo artist it would be Chesney Hawkes. If Budweiser were a county in Ireland it would be Leitrim. If Budweiser were a football manager it would be Steve Staunton. If Budweiser were an Olympic athlete it would Eddie ‘The Eagle’ Edwards. If Budweiser were a film director it would that cunt who makes those Transformer films. If Budweiser were a car it would be a 1971 Skoda. If Budweiser were a Taoiseach it would be Brian Cowen. If Budweiser were an opposition politician it would be Enda Kenny.

Budweiser is the Enda fucking Kenny of beer.

So with so many other beers out there why do people choose to drink it? Even the mass produced lagers like Carlsberg and Heineken are better, and that’s really not saying much.

Some people might say ‘Oh, you’re just a beer snob’ but that is untrue. If I decide to eat a delicious meal instead of a plate of my own crunchy shite it’s because the shite tastes like shite, not because I’m a food snob.

If you were to give me the choice between drinking a pint of Budweiser and drinking a pint of Freddie Mercury’s blood mixed with a pint of the contents of Marc Almond’s stomach I would choose the latter. Those that would choose the Budweiser are the kind who would prefer to eat a frozen kebab from Aldi rather than a well-cooked steak simply because they have to actually cook it themselves. They would turn their noses up at a lobster and eat a fish-finger sandwich instead.

And those Christmassy ads with the horses with the furry boots on have no effect on me, you schmaltzy fuckbags.

Le Verdict : Both Budweiser, for producing something so vile, and the people who actually pay money to drink it, are a load of weak-aled, beer ignoramus, advertising suckered Les Cunts.

L’evidence : The original Heinz bottle was a thing of beauty. Classic design, simple execution, but the modern world’s obsession with ensuring that the witless masses have it as easy as possible ruined things.

The only difficulty with the glass bottle was getting started. It required a few firm pats on the bottle’s arse, so to speak, and the delicious ketchup would flow. If you were weak of forearm simply inserting a knife into the open bottle would ensure the consistent seeping. It was not, it must be said, a very big chore for anyone with even the vaguest brain function.

But one day some bright spark got an idea. ‘A plastic bottle!’, he thought. ‘One which people can squeeze and there will never be any need for arse patting or knife inserting. I am so fuckin’ awesome!!’

Time, however, tells a different story. The normal sized plastic bottle appears to be fine but once you get to the large one or the ‘50% extra free’ bottle you notice the problem. When there’s around 1/3 of the ketchup left the plastic bottle becomes practically unusuable. The plastic makes that horrible crinkling plastic sound like when you squash a water bottle but no ketchup comes out. There’s a huge design flaw.

You have to put up with this ghastly noise and not even get any ketchup to make it worthwhile. You have to unscrew the white nozzle bit and watch huge puddles of the stuff come out instead of the nicely directed stream you were expecting.

As they say on the internets, Massive Fail. And when the main selling point appears to be ‘Stay clean cap’ and not ‘Easier dispensing of ketchup’ then you know they’ve got it wrong.

Le Verdict : The person who sanctioned the design and manufacture of this bottle is unquestionably history’s greatest monster, the spoiling something that should be great, Le Cunt.

L’evidence : These, admittedly, are often cheap frozen pizzas but surely there must be an international standard which is applied to the manufacture of all pizzas. There should be three things:

1 – Base – crispy, thin, deep pan, whatever. Hard to go too far wrong here unless you’re using ground up breeze blocks as flour. Which is mainly a Chinese thing, I believe.

2 – Sauce – tomato based. Again if you get this wrong you are probably the kind of cunt who can’t spell Michael.

3 – Cheese. Mozarella. It’s very simple. Cover the base and the sauce with cheese. Do not just grab a handful of what appears to be cheese but is mostly sawdust or invisible nothing and then put it on a pizza, freeze it and expect me to eat it.

Not putting enough cheese on a pizza is kind of like not putting enough roof on a car and nobody wants to buy a car which only has 14% of its roof, do they?

You wouldn’t even sell a car with only a bit of a roof because even if you were the most idiotic wanklord that ever existed you would stop and think “There is something fundamentally flawed with the item I am hoping to sell”. Yet the same rules don’t seem to apply for sub €1.99 frozen pizzas. It’s little short of a disgrace.

Le verdict : It may well be a case of buyer beware but in these cruel economic times to be so roundly slapped in the face by bargain priced frozen goods is a load of cheeseless, might as well eat a piece of baked cardboard with Easi Singles on it, Le Cunt.

L’evidence : There are many ways you could try and explain the taste of cloves to somebody. There are those who would use the word ‘aromatic’ but these are the kind of people who would listen to the Ryan Tubridy radio show and speak afterwards about what a genial wit the host was. In other words, these people are mentally retarded on a very serious level.

To give you a flavour of the flavour here are 5 things that taste better than cloves:

1 – The top of a battery

2 – The sweaty, lice infested gooch of a very fat homeless man

3 – Gone off fish minced with gone off chicken and fried in piss

4 – A poo that has been sealed inside a zip-locked plastic bag for 6 months and left out in the sun so it grows a kind of green slime all over it

5 – KFC

The list, frankly, could go on forever, yet people use cloves to spoil food. Apple pie is one of the greatest things of all time yet there are those that would serve it with cloves embedded in the crust. Why?

Would you serve a piece of Kobi beef, cooked to perfection, and then use a baby’s diarrhea as a sauce? No you would not. Would you serve a rack of lamb but instead of using fresh rosemary as a complimentary herb would you use nettles? Of course not.

So why use cloves on Apple pie? And why use cloves in whiskey? Whiskey is awesome, hot whiskey less so, but even lesserly so when they chuck a handful of dried clove buds into it. I don’t want a cluster of pig-swill in the top of my pint so fuck off with putting cloves in my whiskey.

And don’t even get me started on clove rock sweets. They look so tasty, red and white candy that should be all strawberry-y and delicious but instead tastes of the vomitous clove.

Le Verdict : Cloves, as I have proven above, are monstrously nauseating yet what does the public do to have this menace banned from our shelves? Nothing. That means they are sneaky, mind controlling, repellent pieces of tree Le Cunt