Del Monte, ya bastid

September 18, 2006 at 7:56 am | Posted in del monte, family, nonsense, tales of youth | 9 Comments

One day, when I was seven, I was awful thirsty. There was nothing to drink except milk, water, orange juice, or Coke, so I thought, fuck it, I’ll use a can opener to pierce a small hole in this tin of Del Monte Pineapple Chunks, and suck the sweet juice out of the hole.

It was delicious, and quenched my thirst nicely. I put the can of chunks back in the cupboard.

Being a child, I forgot about this little escapade until a few weeks later, when my mother went to open the pineapple chunks for dessert. A harrassed mother of three screaming little fuckers, she must not have noticed the piercing made by my stealthy paw several weeks before, and she proceeded to open up the tin.

I said nothing as she gasped and retched at the sink. I watched as she looked again at the brown, turgid gunk that was once a selection of the Man from Del Monte’s finest pineapple, then banged down the wooden spoon on the worktop, saying “Dirty horrible bastards! That is absolutely disgusting! How dare they sell this sort of stuff in this day and age!” Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Mam wrote a big complaint letter to Del Monte about the rotten pineapple chunks, and they sent her a huge basket full of Del Monte products. (This was in the days before they’d just send out vouchers – it’s not half as exciting to make complaints these days, cos you know all you’re gonna get is a money-off coupon or something.)

She still doesn’t know it was her thirsty first-born who caused the browning, and not a bad decision by the Man from Del Monte. She’s convinced that he got it wrong, and for many years went on to tear strips off that nice lad with the khaki outfit who played the Man from Del Monte going to visit the native pineapple growers on the tv ads, shouting at him that the Man from Del Monte will say yes to any old shite, and lookit him spearing a golden slice of nectarine onto his penknife and he selling poison to children here in Ireland.

I keep meaning to tell her, but I always forget.


The funniest thing that happened this weekend was on the flight home last night. Shortly before we landed, the pilot came on the intercom*, as they usually do, and said “Cabin crew, take your seats for landing.”

Linzi, sitting next to me holding Jack, started getting all excited and going “Oh! Oh!” and smiling. I just looked at her with an incredulous “What in the name of Jaysis are you groaning about?” face, then couldn’t help but smile as her face fell, realisation dawning.

For some reason, when the captain came on to tell the cabin crew to prepare for landing, Linzi thought he was saying “I have a special birthday message for Linzi Kav”.

How I laughed. Sure, it’s not her birthday until next week.

*I mean, he spoke into it, not that he shot his load onto it.



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  1. LOL! If she reads your blog, she’ll know now. And you are one of very few people in the world who would make a spunk joke telling a story about your wife’s excitment about her birthday.

  2. I guess you’re gonna have to arrange a special birthday message for Linzi next week.

    The pineapple story reminds me of myself being nosy in the bathroom and accidently dropping my mom’s box of tampons in the toilet. I fished them out and stuck them back. A couple of weeks later I learned that misshapen globs of cotton product won’t work when needed. Big trouble in little China.

  3. That pineapple story is hilarious. I can’t even imagine how vile the stuff in the can must have looked.

  4. Howard: I’d much rather be like that than just spout the same oul shite all the time… 🙂

    jali: LMAO, that must’ve been a bad situation for your mother…just when she needed them most!

    Debbie: I just remember that it was brown, and you couldn’t tell that it used to be chunks – it just looked like one big mush of stuff…

  5. ROCL! *rolling on ceiling laughing*

  6. Get down outta that!

  7. Did you just take a dig at me, sir?


    But are you?

  8. Oh, no kidding, I was being genuine – I’m glad you think I’m unique, was all I meant. No digs at you that time. I’ll try to make them much more obvious in future, so as to avoid any confusion.

    Ya big feckin eejit.


  9. Oh that’s too cute. The plane story.

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