If you say spicy, mean it

Need a universal, less esoteric scale than the scoville

This is a priority, scientists.


you’ve got my vote mate


what’s worse

  • buying something that says spicy that turns out is not spicy
  • buying something that says spicy turns out insanely hot*

0 voters

*trick question as this has never happened

Flex it spice bros!

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I remember being very sceptical about how hot an extra hot Nandos would be on my very first visit. Ended up having to sit at a bus stop for 20 minutes as I thought I was going to shit myself.


That is what it should be though. Extra hot should stop you in your tracks.

We just need consistency.

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I’m on the spice train to spiceville

and if it says extra hot and then the customer complains to the waiter that it is too hot then the waiter should be allowed to punch them in the mouth


*dip their genitals in some sauce

How much of a spice warrior are you (where 1 is Spice Gandhi and 10 is Spice Genghis Khan or Spice Tony Blair or one of those sorts)

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
  • 6
  • 7
  • 8
  • 9
  • 10

0 voters

Fully done.

How was sitting at the bus stop going to help the situation? What was the end game here?

shit on the bus, obviously

The phrase gets bandied about so much it has lost all meaning.

I agree. We :clap:’just :clap:’need :clap:’ consistency.

Not a lot to ask for.

Do you see your tolerance to spicy food as a personality trait that defines you?

  • Yes
  • A little bit
  • No

0 voters

Always liked spicy food, but have had to accept over the past few years that I just can’t tolerate it. Don’t know if my body changed or I just started to become more aware of the after-effects, but I can’t handle stuff like I used to. The fun of eating the spice no longer outweighs the misery that follows. My spice warrior card has been rescinded.

You can join maosm at the bitter spice cowards table.

Did an accidental racism once when I accused my friend with Punjabi parents of being a spice warrior.

She did say it was a fair cop, at least.

Couldn’t walk, so just had to sit down. Anywhere would have done. Stomach was in pieces. Every step was like stirring a bubbling cauldron.

Made it to the closest nondescript looking pub (Assembly House, Kentish Town) and unleashed hell before I could get on the tube.


Spice Ghandhi in CIV V m8


I do love a clandestine emergency pub pit stop.

Not at the time, obviously, but in retrospect.