Avatar Dear Beans… Foolproof Food Face Fiasco

Dear Beans,

It has been a whole twenty-one years since I was born. I do not remember being born, however I am told that it was a most awful and harrowing experience for everyone involved. Indeed, there are no photos of my birth because I am reliably informed that to remember such a day one would have to be the largest of sadomasochists possible.

Anyway, the reason for my letter has nothing to do with that; I wanted to proceed with a strong opener. My problem stems from something I have had since birth. It is not something that is easy to talk about so I am hoping that we can keep this between me and you.

I have the most unique hair. It is made out of noodles so I cannot go outside when it is raining. When I try to cry over something emotional, such as the film ‘The Quest’ starring everyone ever, instead of water tears I weep tears made of rice. When I get stabbed by local gang members I bleed tomato sauce, and I get followed home by hungry dogs and cats, licking the floor behind me.

This has stopped me from living a normal life. The last time I went out with someone I woke up one morning to find him nibbling on my forehead, trying to concoct some sort of bizarre tomato sauce noodle breakfast arrangement. In fact I am convinced he was trying to assemble a makeshift Virgin Mary.

My confidence is at an all time low. Can you help?

Yours convincingly

Camerra Von Plusbeets

19 comments on “Dear Beans… Foolproof Food Face Fiasco

  • Dear Camerra,

    No, I don’t think I can help. But if you feel like it’s all too much and you want to end your suffering, I will gladly boil up a big pan for you and put some garlic bread in the oven.


  • Christopher!

    How could you be so callous? This poor lady… thing needs guidance, care and consideration. At the very least we could turn her into something classy, like a risotto.

  • Fool! You don’t make a risotto with noodles or tomato sauce. I’d rather add some crunchy vegetables and a dash of soy sauce to turn her into a delicious stir fry.

  • Cad! Of course I know that noodles and tomato sauce do not belong in a risotto, even with my limited (and I do mean limited) culinary experience.

    My point was that she deserves better than a mere bolognaise.

  • Well, definitely. I wonder if she could be turned into a spicy tomato noodle soup, so that a larger number of people can enjoy her delicious flavours?

  • Now you’re talking. My belly be rumblin’ now the ‘gredients be fumblin’!

  • Are they “fumblin’”? They could easily be cookin’ and I could understand it if they were marinatin’, but fumblin’ seems to be beyond them.

  • Yeah. They’re fumblin’ because they’re in a constant state of movement, because we’re cookin’. That’s how cookin’ works, right?

  • I’m not sure fumblin’ is the right word for that. How about movin’? Fumblin’ would suggest they’re lookin’ for somethin’.

  • But movin’ doesn’t rhyme with rumblin’. You can’t have your belly rumblin’ now the ‘gredients be movin’. That’s seven shades of wrong.

  • You didn’t concoct it, you just used in inappropriately. Now go sit over there and think about what you’ve done.

  • Can I think about spoodles and splodges at the same time?

  • He also used the word concocted inappropriately.

    I think we need to have a conversation about how, just because you know a word, doesn’t mean you can use it to mean anything you like.

  • Yes, yes I think we do. It might reduce Ian’s vocabulary significantly though, is it worth the risk?

  • You did good. You pizza champion. You should have a second go and film that.

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