This had me properly chuckling, thankyou:
• Rich Tea. Why do that to yourself, unless you actually live in a monastery? Rich Tea are solely eaten by people who are either a) scared of flavour, or b) in a painful phase of delusional, dieting self-denial. They are notoriously rubbish dunkers, too.
• Bourbons. Cocoa and dark chocolate? That's what they're supposed to taste of? Seriously? Because all I'm getting is an artificial tang of something indistinguishably dark and a bit cheap.
• Jam rings. Theoretically, this should work, but most high street versions are hard work: two brittle pieces of dried-out biscuit encasing a nugget of jam so chewy it threatens to have your fillings out.
• Hobnobs. Prima facie evidence of how capitalism perpetuates itself by creating artificial demand for unnecessary products. In the 80s, was anyone crying out for a flapjack-digestive hybrid so sweet it literally glistens with sugars? No. Yet this OTT, b******ised biscuit now has the nation in its grip. The Hobnob is, of course, famed for its dunkability, for its ability to take on moisture and retain its integrity, but bite in and you will find that dunking turns those oats into an unedifying, gritty slurry.
• Shortbread. Only the most patriotic Scots pretend to like shortbread. It's like Runrig. And Rab C Nesbitt. Too rich and buttery, and yet somehow dry, one-dimensional and, bar that sugary coating, a bit parsimonious, they are unpleasantly contradictory, and so claggy it's difficult to eat one (never mind three; see below) without finishing your cup of tea. No biscuit should require that level of lubrication.
• Iced rings: Is this a five-year-old's birthday party? No? Then what are they doing here?