This is the sort of yoghurt whose advertisement features middle-class women drinking coffee from a cafetiere and complaining in a sharing sort of way that they feel bloated all the time. Now, I know that this feeling of bloatedness comes from living like a lobotomised, over-propertied seal at the end of history rather than from not eating enough yoghurt, but I suppose they had to flog it somehow. It’s probably full of sugar and poison anyway, but it’s got a green label so it must be better than that pink-packaged petit filou stuff that really posh children like to eat with tiny spoons, the sort used to bash in the brains of cooked quails or something.
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