Is There a Point to Brunch?

Post 358

No. Not at all. Nope. Nopey-nope. Not a single ounce of me believes there is any point in this antiquated horse-tiddle. I have been researching meal terms for the last hour, and believe me, I cannot stand meal terms. If you think brunch is desperately depressing, you aint read nothing yet. And the worst part is, the British invented the word! I mean, it’s hardly surprising considering we invented just about everything, but I really hoped this one wasn’t us. 1800! That’s when unleashed this beast. ‘By eliminating the need to get up early on Sunday, brunch would make life brighter for Saturday-night carousers’. Basically, if you get drunk on Saturday night, brunch is quite handy because it means you don’t have to get up for breakfast. Which nowadays, is useless. We just eat a slice of the cold pizza draped over our face from the night before. Really. If this is why the term was created, I see no reason as to keep using it. But maybe it’s too late, dear readers. These words are spreading like an itchy rash on your left buttock.

Breakfast is understandable. Literally, ‘breaking the fast of sleep’. Breakfast. Ah, Weetabix, you beautiful choking hazard. Then comes second breakfast. After breakfast, but before lunch. Then useless brunch. Typically late morning, but many cultures have it around three in the afternoon. Then it’s time for elevenses, at around 11, a snack similar to afternoon tea. Then lunch, a small midday meal. Then high tea, a light early evening meal. Then afternoon tea, a light meal typically eaten between four and six. Then lunner, a meal between lunch and dinner. Then dinner, the main large evening meal. Then lupper, a meal between dinner and supper. And then supper. Eaten at night. Shortly before bed. To make matters more confusing, we have brinner, breakfast when you should be having your dinner. Savoury course. God only knows. The Sunday Roast, neither tea nor dinner. The wedding breakfast, typically eaten in the afternoon at weddings. And the Americans once again have provided us with a prime example of no understanding of the English language. Midnight breakfast. Hmm. Well, yes. Nobody in the world outside of America knows what that is…

It’s all pointless, people! How did the Victorians stay so thin? There’s a reason there’s a fat epidemic. What did the Victorians do? They didn’t exercise. Maybe they understood all these meals. I don’t. Why, what, huh? Oh. It’s no use. It should be simple. Like it is with me. Breakfast. Then dinner, which in the UK is the large main meal everyone eats between four and seven. And then supper, which in the UK is a light meal everyone eats between eight and eleven, usually around nine. Why do we need brunch? I hate brunch! I hereby state from this day forth we need to start a brunch revolution. A cleansing of our layers upon layers of the confusing clusterfunk of meal terminologies…


Toodle-pip :)(:

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Please feel free check out the latest posts from my other two blogs:

The Indelible Life of Me
New Post Every Sunday
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Hark Around the Words
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