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(Copying/pasting from my own blog here, so yes, you can find an almost verbatim version of this elsewhere online.)

When I was a kid, my family acquired a Ouija board. We tried it out a few times, with minimal success, until one day, we ‘struck gold’.

This is a menu from a café/restaurant in Reykjavík. I did not partake of these things, but I have had hákarl, which is rotten, fermented shark. Some genius found out that the normally poisonous meat from a Greenlandic shark is less poisonous, but still revolting, after being buried for weeks and hung to dry. It tastes

'Best' riles me up like crazy, in part because, in my experience, it's usually demanding and/or irrational arseholes who default to it.

Also yes, best what? 'Best of luck dealing with my horseshit pedantry and lack of genuine personality'? Because that is often the case in my worklife.

AGH BEST IS THE WORST.

Not a restaurant, but I manage a cinema in which the following exchange occurred last night (translated from French):

"Do you want butter?"
"No, I want a Pepsi."