Prolonged whining about an inconsequential, and largely fictitious, FIRST WORLD PROBLEM.

Because one thing the equality and inclusion movement has taught me more than anything else, is that relatively minor First World problems are far more important than tragedies that happen a long way away. Or problems that are far closer to home, but nobody really gives a shit about.

(All rights to this image belong to Beyond Baked Beans.)

I am a man, well either that or a woman whose face hit every branch of the ugly tree she fell out of, twice, which is beside the point. It doesn't matter, except in the sense that if it wasn't for white wine and rohypnol I wouldn't have a sex life. The most important thing, whatever I have in my underwear, is that I am in the western world. Which is the best bit allegedly. This means whatever my problems are, they leap straight to the top of the agenda. I didn't go to all the trouble of being born here, to do without what is rightfully mine. In this case it's my right to whine about minor inconveniences like they are important. I, along with all social media, am allowed to ignore the plights of those too stupid to have the right passport/citzenship/skin color. Kim Kardashian's ass is way more important than the plight of the Rohingya whatever the fuck that is. I don't know, there's nothing on social media about it. I don't even know if I should be for or against it. Kim Kardashian's ass hasn't expressed an opinion. Kanye West has, for once, remained neutral on the subject. All of which is irrelevant. I don't need excuses to lose my shit over things that irritate me slightly.

This is the problem and it's fucking huge. That picture of sausages is there for a reason. That reason is to highlight a serious problem with my cossetted, over privileged life. On the cooking instructions for these sausages it states : "Cook for 15 minutes, turning frequently." What the fuck does any of this mean, you are probably asking yourself? Which is precisely what I want to know. I like pork sausages. I used to have the perfect system for cooking them properly, but then she left me. Taking all of the cookery knowledge with her. A typically selfish move on her part, I might add. Well all I can say is good luck to her next time she... when... if... every time she tries to do any of the things only I used to do. Trying hard to think of something here but so far all I've come up with is piss standing up. Fuck it let's run with that. All of which is only partly sausage related yet needed saying. In fact, if I'm honest that isn't related to my point in any way. It needed saying though. This probably wasn't the right time. So let's leave it there.

Back to my lovely pork sausages and the important stuff. What the fuck does FREQUENTLY mean in this precise instance? I frequently have to put fuel in the car which is 2 or 3 times a week. How am I supposed to turn those sausages 2 or 3 times a week in 15 minutes? I haven't had freshly cooked pork sausages for so long I've begun to forget what they taste like. I became so desperate I actually looked for the definition of frequently:

I already knew it was an adverb so here's the rest of it -
It means = regularly or habitually; often.
"they go abroad frequently"
synonyms: regularly, often, very often, all the time, habitually, customarily, routinely.

Yeah I was justifiably enraged and disappointed to.

Bearing in mind these are sausages, how does that help? Do I turn them every time I go abroad? Exactly how regular is regularly and how often is very often? These questions need answers or those sausages will end up not being cooked again. Even the turning thing is confusing. The first time I tried to cook some I turned near enough constantly throughout the cooking process. The result was that my sausages were burnt on one side and raw on the other. Look I've got better things to do with my time to, but stick with me. Alright it was a novice mistake and perhaps I should have understood that it was the sausages that needed turning not me. Not my fault. I left home, where my mother did things for me, then I lived with a succession of women who had horrific emotional problems, low self esteem and the ability to cook. That's not an excuse, it's a fact. They stated 15 minutes exactly then lost interest as far as I can see. I've been robbed here. People have told me that it's something to do with their color. That's no help at all. I ate the fucking things. I didn't compare them to a pantone chart. I cut them into bits, shoved them into the lowest hole on my face and chewed. That system worked well. Why change it?

I have been betrayed and I don't think that's putting it too strongly. My easy life has encountered a difficulty therefore I am entitled to moan aggressively. At which point somebody is obligated to assume responsibility for my self inflicted problems and solve them for me. That's the way it should work. I'm a complete failure with women, immigrants are to blame. That's not racist because some of them will like sausages as well. Foreign sausages I expect, with different accents and cultures. Thing is, that wasn't what pushed me over the edge in this instance. This sloppy inaccuracy with instructions goes even further. You won't believe this, but those evil sausage selling bastards didn't only fail to provide the exact definition of frequently. I kept this hidden to stop your brain exploding in anger like mine did. This is the part that made me so furious I started punching small children and kicking tortoises. Those sausages have to be cooked on a medium heat. I'll give you a moment to digest that. Fucking unbelievable isn't it?

There may be a few people out there struggling to survive on a dollar a day who don't understand what I'm on about. For their benefit I'll explain. I'm rich, simply because I happen to be born in the first world. Among the huge problems this brings is that my cooker doesn't have knobs (Don't get me started on knobs, it's a fucking disgrace what's happened to them after centuries of loyal service. Cast aside like used condoms now. All for the sake of political correctness in my opinion. I loved all my knobs, but now isn't the time). I have a new digital cooker and range. At first that might seem like a good thing. Except my digital hob has 6 different heat settings. They are numbered 1 to 6. Now can you see? WHAT THE FUCK does medium heat mean? Is it 3 or 4? When I had a knob I could position that half way between the 2 settings. That was perfect. Now I have no idea what to do. 3, in all probability is a bit too low. 4, is possibly a bit high. I have no way of knowing and no patience to spend any time finding out. Why should I have to? I'm in the first world with my problems. I avoid taxes so my government solves all these things for me. It's why I don't bother to vote.

There is no solution to this requiring me to do nothing, which is the only solution I will accept. I am entitled. I've been reduced to buying precooked sausages and warming them in my microwave. How can that be acceptable? I've a good mind to raise this issue with my local political representative, if only I knew who that was or where they are. They taste pretty much the same I think. Only I can't be sure, because I haven't had freshly cooked ones for so long now. Surely the UN should be doing supply drops by this time. That's what they're for isn't it? Making my comfortable privileged lifestyle even better. There should at least be a toll free helpline. I wouldn't use it, but someone could call on my behalf or start a movement for change. I'm being oppressed by sausages here. That's an abuse of my basic human rights.

I'm not impressed with the standards of microwave meals either. For the good of my blood pressure I shouldn't mention it, so I will do anyway. They are supposed to be quick, easy and above all lazy. Yet I've got to put a slit in the film then heat them for 4 minutes. I'd be fine with that normally only then I have to remove it from the microwave, peel back the film, stir the contents, recover the meal and heat it for a further 2 minutes. That's a fucking recipe. Recipe's involve cooking. Successive girlfriend's have taken all that cooking knowledge with them. I'm reiterating things, which isn't good either. I wouldn't have to do that if the world was really run for my benefit like it should be. Those supposedly lazy microwave meals are producing work which requires effort on my part. The only thing in their favor is that the instructions aren't existential like those sausages. Now that I've raised this I expect most, if not all, of you are equally as incensed as I am. I suggest you march down to town hall and start protesting on our behalf. Safe in the knowledge I will do nothing to help you in my cause. Now I'm going to polish my knob to a shine. That always raises my spirits although I'll still remain disgruntled. Pretty sure that's another crime against the human rights convention. I seem to remember I have the right to be gruntled, but nobody cares. So it's up to all of you to sort my problems out.