According to the old proverb, we should all breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dine like a pauper. Over the years I have settled into my own personal routine of breakfasting like Jack Bauer, lunching like a delivery driver and dining like Caligula. However, despite decades of treating my body less like a temple and more like a “Mr. Fusion Home Energy Reactor”, I have always had a healthy respect for the benefits of a good breakfast.

Whether it be the hangover-dampening fry-up, the 45-successive-slices-of-Marmite-on-toast-because-it’s-so-addictive-I-may-as-well-be-eating-crack, or the humble shotglass of otter sperm – everyone has a favourite way to start the day.

My brother once went to India, and visited a restaurant where you could order a “French Breakfast”, which literally consisted of a coffee and a cigarette. I myself have witnessed the cacophony of sweet and savoury that is the Harlem Gospel Brunch at B.B. King’s in New York (which is an ABSOLUTE must-see if you go to New York, regardless of your taste in food or music), where danish pastries and fried catfish are unceremoniously jammed side-by-side into mounds of scrambled egg before your boggling eyes. I have spent years trying unsuccessfully to replicate the iberian cured ham and cheese sandwich I had each morning in a Starbucks (yes, a Starbucks, you judgemental fops) in Seville.

In the process of trawling the internet for breakfast images to link to (and I trust you are clicking on them, my little chihuahuas), I came across this beauty:

Chocolate chip? Brilliant.

Who is this Jimmy Dean? Clearly the culinary equivalent of Salvador Dali.

I know exactly what you’re thinking:

“This has blatantly been created on PhotoShop, so it’s not as funny as you think it is, because I know far more about computers than you do. God, I’m so lonely – I think I’ll just check my Facebook one last time while I apply my anthrax cream…”

Well, it’s legit, so there. In fact, the website of Jimmy “Live Fast, Eat What Appears To Be Some Shit, Die Young” Dean is incredible. I think it might be one of my all-time favourite websites, for the following reasons:

1. The aforementioned ‘Pancakes and Sausage on-a-stick’ is categorized under ‘Flapsticks’, which is the single most gloriously unappetizing word I have ever come across. (Note that they also come in blueberry flavour.)
2. The comments and testimonials that people leave (under ‘Flapsticks’, and especially the amazing feedback/suggestions for the commercial in the videos section – read them all).
3. The inexplicable use of berries in the photos of almost all the food. Sausage and raspberry, anyone?
4. There is a recipe section, with such delights as the ‘Jimmy Dean 6 Layer Breakfast Casserole’ and the unmissable ‘Jimmy Dean Apple Cheddar Sausage Balls With Dijon-Balsamic Glaze’. Interestingly, I read from her biog that the chef that design the recipes used to be an attorney. I bet that comes in handy.

I could work my whole life to try and produce a spoof website with that level of subtlety and not even get close.

Anyway. This last August, I was staying at the home of a complete stranger when I was introduced to Dorset Cereals. If, like me, you enjoy a nice bowl of muesli, then check these bad boys out. Don’t be put off by the fancy packaging – you don’t have to be Guardian-reading lesbian vet to enjoy them

If, indeed, you are a fan of that kind of bottom-of-the-birdcage type cereal, you may have noticed an alarming new development occurring on supermarket shelves all around the country. I was in my local Sainsbury’s the other day browsing for the aforementioned Dorset Cereals when I came across this startling new section on the shelf.

Now, I am not naive enough to deny that sex sells, but surely a line has now been crossed. As a lifelong cereal eater I was devastastated to see that manufacturers have resorted to this kind of pornagraphic re-branding to boost sales figures. As a man of sensitive moral disposition I immediately averted my eyes from the potential onslaught of filth, insisting instead that a passing old lady – who seemed at a glance to be no stranger to carnal deviancy – should find my muesli for me.

What might I have seen, I wonder, if I had dared to peek into the muck of the Adult Cereals section? What could possibly be the names of these breakfasts that sought to tittilate the unwary shopper into buying them? I thought I caught a glimpse of the word ‘orgasmic’, but it may have been ‘organic’. The mind plays tricks.

It’s bad enough that we have to contend with Jimmy Dean’s flapsticks! Whatever next? Tit Flakes? Flange Clusters? Chocolate Coated Inner Thighs?

COCK PORRIDGE?

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