Food critic, MasterChef meanie, writer, son of Britain’s favourite agony aunt, and jazz pianist, Jay Rayner has been on 100 staggeringly mundane and yet wildly amusing “digitally manipulated” adventures with me. It started as a vague drunken prank and ended in the two of us playing along to a bemused Twitter audience – and even meeting.
It’s been quite the journey, and here it is now in all its glory for your continued amusement.
It began when spotted a man who bore more than a passing resemblance to our favourite floppy haired, fork-tongued foodie in a rubbish pub eating soggy chips – a situation the very opposite of what we’d expect from Mr Rayner. Knowing that he is a good-humoured sport from a previous Twitter encounter, I saw my opportunity and shenanigans quickly escalated.
(Click on each image for a link to the original tweet – if you feel so inclined).
Huge thanks to Jay Rayner – the best sport on the internet.
Pretty Feet, Pop Toe