Les Delices De Cumbria - Part XIII
News reaches us from the world of bakery - strange practices in Cleator Moor . Our confectionery correspondent relates that she was recently faced with the challenging commission of a couple's engagement party cake. The young lovers wished to be immortalised in marzipan. How exactly? The luckless patissier was asked to confect an icing-sugar bedstead upon which the loving couple besported themselves, she on top, he beneath her bound to the bedstead, his'n'her tattoos and piercings reproduced with loving attention to detail. Quite what this tells us either about the semiotics of low-class Cumbrian konditorei or troth-plighting amongst the chavs I'm not at all sure.
Do stop sniggering at the back. It happened in Cleator Moor. They do that kind of thing over there.
Do stop sniggering at the back. It happened in Cleator Moor. They do that kind of thing over there.
posted by Nick at 11:48 pm
3 Comments:
What, no sheep?
The folks at The Wall Street Journal, who recently tried to turn an isolated incident of a bride posing for racy shots for the wedding photographer as a gift to her betrothed into a national trend, had better not get wind of this.
Now I come to think of it 'It Happened In Cleator Moor' would be quite a bad title for a film . . . (though not about the sexual practices of the natives . . .)
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