That stuff. The curious cellophane-like material that food manufacturers deem suitable for packaging stuff like dried pasta, nuts, and other eminently scatterable comestibles. It's not suitable. It's deeply and profoundly not suitable. It's as suitable as using chocolate for aeroplane wings or a spacesuit made of batter. Now there's pecan halves all over my kitchen floor. That fucking material, no matter how gently you try to tear open of the packet, the moment your mind skitters off to ponder the existential mysteries of life and nutty, nutty snacky goodness, the entire thing tears open scattering the contents to the four distant corners of the kitchen. Yes, I could use scissors, but they're in the drawer on the other side of the kitchen and I want nutty, nutty, snacky goodness now. I'm not patient, I'm a man. How did they fit so many nuts in the packet? I swear they're everywhere. It's like someone exploded a pecan factory. There must be a tonne. There's probably an entire army of squirrels outside, like it's some bizarre rodent finale to Lord of the Rings. Food packing fuckers, wasn't tetrapack enough? Was not enough milk sacrificed by our clumsy fingers, enough juice spattered up walls and across ceilings? Weren't frangible corned beef can keys enough to try our sanity beyond the point it bends and breaks? Oh no, you had to invent this stuff. And for the record, those sticky little tabs you claim are for securing the packets. No, they don't work either, and you know it. It's no-glue, that what it is. It feels sticky. It fools you into thinking it might be sticky. But the moment the cupboard closes, it's done. You reach in the following day and take out your sealed packet, and a pasta avalanche buries your feet. I hate those food packaging evil-doers.
And in other matters. I was in the Congo the other year (the not-so-democratic one). Um Bongo? They don't fucking drink it in the Congo after all. What next? Kia Ora not too orangey for crows?