Raisins – also known as dried grapes – represent everything wrong with our civilisation and they seek to disrupt the foundations upon which this very nation stands, and this ingrate, Mr Ma, has the audacity to suggest that we need more raisins in Imperial in order to make his breakfast better. It makes me sick. I will be honest with you, dear readers, that I voted to remain in the EU referendum, but if Brexit means breakfast, and hence means less of this raisin loving coming to this country to dilute British culture (I bet half the raisins you eat aren’t even grown in the UK), then hand me a copy of the Daily Mail.
The word ‘raisin’ comes from the latin ‘racemus’ meaning a bunch of grapes, further corrupted by old French to mean grape. Let me tell you, I will be damned if I put anything remotely French in my mouth. Why can’t we use English words for English fruit? If you ask me this is a Hong Kong conspiracy to manipulate the FTSE 100 by flooding it with raisin stocks, thus making the pound even weaker. Trust me Don I have seen this all before – do you think that I don’t remember the Polish grapefruit conspiracy of 1998?
From a purely food-based viewpoint, why you would want to put dry wrinkled balls of fruit into your mouth is beyond me. Imperial have spotted the fact that having to chew these raisins whilst ingesting the yogurt is an extremely inefficient way of consuming calories. By removing this component, it allows the customer to loosen their gag reflex and down the contents, thus enabling you to start working yourself to death so that Imperial can receive more grants and president Gast can line the coffers of the trustees.
Finally I would like to share with you a personal story. Although your view may be pro-raisin, I have a deep and personal vendetta against these wrinkly foes. It was 1942. I was in a Siberian gulag, persecuted for crimes I did not commit. I made friends with a raisin there named Vanya. We became very close; some might say even loved each other. Together we plotted to escape; however, at the final moment Vanya alerted the guards of my intentions, distracting them from his escape, and forcing me to spend four more years alone in that wretched hole. Never trust a raisin. Never.