There was a story in the news this week about a guy who was making kebabs… next to a corpse.

Sure, a guy doing food prep next to a dead body that was sitting on a couch (who has a couch in the kitchen?!) was the place you’d get your headline from, but as for the rest of his crimes of hygiene…

As well as the corpse, the policeman discovered another man smoking and spitting repeatedly on the floor, while in a room near the kitchen, a defrosting chicken, oozing blood and juices, was covered with flies.

Environmental health officers had visited the shop over a number of months previously where they had warned Singh to improve his food hygiene standards after finding rat droppings as well as a dead rat beneath a pot.

I imagine some dude in a filthy wifebeater, spitting everywhere and ashing into the soup – a man who would probably advise his kitchenhand to “stop pickin’ your nose and start kneading that dough”…

Yeah.  I’m so not worried about the dead guy.  It’s the living who scare me.