It’s been a while since I did ribs. I went to my trusty farm shop to get some, got home, decided they weren’t big enough, and popped to Tesco and got some much more substantial ones.
Talking of substantial, check out this guy. He is an ‘extreme eater’, and consumes extreme amounts of food. For some reason. He took on the Breaking BadAss Challenge at Longhorns Barbeque Smokehouse in Newcastle and ate a rack of beef ribs, a rack of pork ribs, various other meaty items, some coleslaw and so on. Inexplicably though he couldn’t eat a pot of baked beans and thus, having failed the challenge, had to fork out £35 for the meal.
A failed extreme eater. It’s a lonely job, and no one has to do it. Back to my ribs.
I found out a new fascinating fact the other day.
A Venus Fly Trap could consume a human being.
For this to happen the aforementioned human would have to be served up to the predatory plant in little bits, of no more than one gramme at a time (each gramme taking about 1 3/4 days to process). Anymore than that and it would freak out and stop working.
On that basis, given the average human weighs about 75,000 grammes, it would take the little blighter 378 years to finish off dear Aunt Gladys. (BTW all this information is courtesy of a Sunday Times journalist, @MattRudd, who is paid money to come up with this stuff. Some people have the life. Still, he reckoned it was 1,500 yrs but I reckon its 378. It matters people).
So what, I hear you yawn. In fact someone might be reading this and thinking what is this drivel, where is the steak. Actually if someone is reading this then I’m really happy. If someone is reading this and still thinking, I’m ecstatic).
Well the point is, if a Venus Fly Trap can eat a man in 378 years (admitedly in very small portions), then how long would it take to eat this steak?
Whilst I wait 1 1/2 hours for my pork ribs to simmer I thought I’d share with you my latest BB. That’s ‘Baking Balls-up’.
It was looking good, and in fact, if I had been in the right mood, I could have passed this one off as a deliberate creation. I could have called it Chocolate Orange Melt-in-the-Middle Cake. But I cannot lie. Ask the wife. I come out in a cold sweat and start stammering.
Nothing much wrong with this right? Wrong…