What about cinnamon?
Mints aren't food, they're little poos done by toothpaste.
Timoth, I have nothing to say to you.
they're little poos done by toothpasteCan I steal this and make it my very own?I love altoids and have people gather them for me when they go to the US, but they make you tired, apparently. Hence, we (my immediate circle) now offer each other "weakeners".
Oh, and just making sure you know about this:http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/darwin/(Sorry, have had my weakener and can't cope with html).
Due to my sheltered upbringing, I hadn't actually heard of Altoids til this moment, but have just gone to their (v. fancy) website and observe that they do a cinnamon flavour. Ooh la la. Nice tins.And thanks for the Darwin linko. My fave Darwinist these days (besides CD 'imself) is Elizabeth Grosz, who wrote this totally bonza book called Time Travels: feminism, nature, power (2005). She derives from D's theory this: transformation through oppression. And lots of other good stuff, e.g. there is no such thing as race.Also: my insights into the real provenance of the mint are all yours. No attribution required.
It's the thatness of of this that concerns me, my goodly Baron. Or rather, the thisness of that, not to mention the unbearable theness of the thanness. Haecceity, indeed!
Fancy some oats?
I wouldn't mind having a peckish at some. That's right up my avinaceous.
The cinnamon altoids are the exception to the cinnamon mints=evil rule, although my preference is for "Wintergreen". I also have a tin of "Creme de Menthe" that I like. The tins are fabulous and I'm building quite a collection that I know I'll find something to do with one day. I discovered them the first time I went to the US, when I was informed that American women always keep a tin in their bags and that they are especially useful for sharing whilst you commiserate with each other over the perversities of menfolk. They are English really.Have only read Grosz on psychoanalysis, but the Darwin book sounds fascinating.
And you only discovered this at such a late stage of your edumacation?Next time the urge to bake something strikes, why don't you whip up a batch of snickerdoodles, thereby doing something for both your taste buds and your lexicon?
Everything tastes better with cassia, it makes this jassia,even if it's scraped from bark(for a harmless, culinary lark.)In Siem Reap I recovered from gut-rot by eating plain cinnamon biscuits from a funky bakery. The biscuits were called "Cinammon Speculos", and, apart from sounding like a painful medical instrument, were simply delicious.
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