Fruit of the Loon
Tell me, who came up with the term 'fun size' for microscopic foodstuffs? More to the point, have they been severely and floridly punished for this? If not, my darling kraken-lover, I am happy to step into the breach to administer said retribution. Believe me, it is long overdue.

Now that's fun size

At what point did fodder that measures smaller than a ping pong ball become fun sized? I mean, how much bloody fun can you have with a pear like a gobstopper or a Twix like a hamster's leg? That's about as much fun as removing your own ovaries with a wooden chip fork, for Christ's sake.
No, no, no. If you really want something to be fun sized, you food producing titheads, you'd make it bigger, not invisible to the naked eye. Think anything over 15ft long, three stone in weight or with the circumference of a space hopper. You know, bananas the length of commuter trains, apples like footstools, Snickers bars like three seater sofas. Now, that's fun sized. Not this poxy business of shoving fifteen pieces of fruit into bags like baby's mittens.
Imagine the fun you could have with a bar of chocolate that cast a shadow over next door's house? Or the joy of burrowing into an apple, making a nest and using the pips as furniture? God, it would be worth every frigging penny of the extortionate price tag.
You never know though. Perhaps the term 'fun' refers to the poor bastards who have to pick n pack these ridiculous offerings. I like to think that they put wagers on how tiny their bananas need to be before they can persuade Del Monte or Fyffes to flog them to a wildly gullible western world, desperate to stuff the nation's lunch boxes with anything other than Monster Munch.
So don't go fretting over the fruit producers who have to feed entire families on wages equal to the price of a jelly baby. They're laughing their frigging heads off at us as we wedge three fun size apples into our mouth at any one time. Which means we've all been bloody well had doesn't it and there's fuck all that's fun sized about that.

The Bread Line

Now, that's thick.

Whoa! I've just swallowed a sandwich so irritating I'm re-naming myself Mama Cass. 
Yesterday I bought a loaf of bread, Brace's wholemeal thick sliced, to be specific. Today I cracked it open to make a cheese n pickle sarnie, mildly excited at the prospect of a right ole doorstep thanks to the tantalising word 'thick' that was splashed all over the packet. Well, what a frigging mug I was. 
You know what I found? Slices so hilariously thin that the packet should have read Brace's wholemeal communion wafers. In fact, I dug out an old school ruler to prove the point and lo! the slices were exactly 12mm thick. 12 mm. Yes, that's a measly 1.2cms or a rough 0.5 inch. I tried to take a photo of the offending slice but when I turned it on its side it disappeared and I couldn't fucking find it. 
Call this thick bread? If so, what the fuck is thin? Transparent? Christ, I'm thinking of buying myself a packet so I can use it like cling film.
Brace's, either your bread machines have been tampered with by some shady Warburtons/ Hovis/ Greggs cabal or you are ripping the shit out of your customers. I hope it's the latter but I fear it's the former. Bring back the doorstep or I'll put you in a serious pickle on yours.