guaranteed low-quality

Okay, we hate to ask, but... over the roll or under the roll?  

Under, obviously. Aesthetically correct, because parallel. And built-in brake.

Are there any snacks, food or candy that are no longer made that you desperately miss?

aka 'the obligatory Spangles post', although my memory of Spangles is not that intense.

The demise of the Abbey Crunch is to be sincerely regretted.
And Fry's Five Centres. And the Nutty bar. (Both on behalf of my mother.)
And Penguins in separately coloured-wrappers.
And Pacers.
And Tudor Crisps. And Good'n'Crunchy crisps.
And the baby Marmite pot.
And the proper black-licorice Midget Gem in bags. (Fuck you very much, Maynards.)

Expat life is strange, because you have ridiculous cravings for certain things, and completely forget about others. Then you go home and remember them and enjoy them with brief nostalgic glee, before remembering why you didn't remember them. Or, alternatively, discover that the fuckers have discontinued them, so that you are forced to firebomb their head office in the middle of the night.

What's your morning beverage of choice?  Coffee, tea, juice?  Homemade or store-bought?

Tea, mate. Preferably loose, picked from the verdant slopes of Harrogate, and drunk in a white earthenware mug like the ones in The Dam Busters. 'Builders' tea' is a bastard to find in the US, though: it's too often a choice between nasty cheap iced-tea stuff or overpriced foofy single-estate yuppie tea.

Oh, gawd, can I make a list? In no order, from the top of my head:

• 'Bonnie and Clyde' done by Luna (with Laetitia Sadier in the Bardot role).
• 'Woodstock' done by Richard Thompson (VH1 Joni Mitchell tribute).
• 'Oops, I Did It Again', ditto.
  
• Ditto's 'I Want To See The Bright Lights Tonight' done by Ida.
  
• 'Iron Man' done by The Cardigans. So wrong.
• 'Straight Outta Compton' done by Nina Gordon. So, so wrong.
  
• and, having heard it this week, 'I Want You' done in devastating fashion by Fiona Apple.

In general, put me in the 'I'd like a headfuck' category when it comes to covers.

[ETA: Her royal Mauraness reminds me of Saint Etienne's cover of 'Only Love Can Break Your Heart', with aching vocals by Moira Lambert. In truth, I only heard Neil Young's original about a decade later.]

The gap between worst experience and best experience is paper-thin. I've had bad travel days that turned out well: the cancelled flight which led to the upgrade after hours of grief; the mad trek across Belgium and the stomach-loosening SeaCat ride; the flight from baking San Diego that left me stuck in ice-bound Minneapolis with only the shirt on my back.

But the worst? The only flight I've ever missed. For which can be thanked Boston traffic, and the geniuses who decided to stick Logan airport on the shoreline, with a large old, badly laid-out city blocking the way in from all sides. It's bad enough knowing that you might be screwed when you hit traffic four hours before your plane is set to leave. But two hours later, when you've moved only a couple of miles, and know you can't give up... is just sickening.

(The Big Dig was worth every penny.)

Even that didn't end too horribly. It was one of those 'fuck it' moments: we'd been hit with the cost of new tickets, and had to spend the night. So to save the day, there was only one solution: a nice room at the airport Hilton.