Polycarboxymethylene - Or Human Flesh?

 Conrad Rises To A Challenge!
A question of fine dining, no less.  Russell, whom I tend to abbreviate to "Russ" and then add in a bit of libellous doggerel (" - who makes a fuss" is typical) put it to me that I ought to write on a peculiar subject that came up in discussion today.  He had been chiding Dee for not availing herself of free bread, because, as he so wisely warned, what if her train home was delayed by <insert catastrophe here> and she had no bread to sustain her existence until the Army/UNIT/ticket inspector came along to stage a rescue?

<Catastrophe inserted>

     "You could always eat other passengers," observed Conrad, direct and always thinking of solutions.
     "You could eat the seat covers," countered Russ, to Dee's explicit disgust.  She mentioned that years of being sat upon by people would have left deposits sufficient to probably render them sentient.
     Oh, by the way, I completely made up "Polycarboxymethylene" so hopefully it sounds like the kind of hard-wearing textile that First Trains would sheathe their seats with.
     Which would be preferable?  Bear in mind that the human digestive system is designed to cope with meat, meaning a Plus!  for Cannibal.  One the Minus! side is the fact that you would have to eat it raw, meaning that the flavour won't come out very well and there is the risk of food-poisoning.  On the Plus! side there are bound to be some small or frail passengers you could easily devour, at least until they notice what's going on.  Again, on the Plus! side, the inside of a train is quite constricted, meaning it's harder for people to avoid you.  Another potential Minus! is that other passengers might object to your gnawing great chunks out of Mrs. Mimms and explaining the vital necessity of food is pretty difficult when your mouth's full.

Tell me, sir, what's your choice?

     Tackling the textile next, understandably the human digestive tract is not designed to cope with artificial fibres.  This is actually a Plus! for Covering, as it means you would rapidly hit Fill Level as your stomach bulges with plastic polymer - calorie-free plastic polymer at that.  Again on the Plus! side, your colleagues in calamity are unlikely to restrain you for eating seat covering, although they will probably give you a wide berth and avoid eye contact.  On the Minus! side, those seat covers are extremely robust and if you aren't carrying a bladed utensil to cut slices off, your jaws are going to suffer in the attempt.

The Dining Car

     I think, on balance, that the jury decides in favour of Cannibalism on the 18:23 to Wigan.

Getting Bogged Down
You know what a lovable scamp your humble scribe is, always seeking to capitalise on the misfortune or failings of others with a merry quip as part of his "point and laugh" attitude.  So, cast your eyes over this:

The tank, thanks

     Note the dateline there: 2000.  If this tank was pulled out of a bog after 60 years that means it got swamped in 1940, right?
     Wrong!
     Germany didn't invade the Sinisters until June 1941.
     I shall be writing a strongly-worded letter to The Times.

Drug Destruction Kits
I mentioned these yesterday and, unless you work in a pharmacy, you will have been as ignorant of them as was Conrad.  Briefly put, if you as a pharmacist receive surplus Controlled Drugs, you are required to destroy them.  NO!  You can't go sell them half-price on e-bay.  Nor the dark web.  Destruction, that's it.
     A drug destruction kit works by encapsulating the offending chemical in a gel.  Art?

Strawberry flavour!

     This is then gotten rid of in a bin.
     However - it transpires that you can recover the drugs from the gel matrix.  Even the most effective treatment only destroyed irrecoverably 22% of the drugs, leading to the pharmacists who discovered this warning about securing rubbish bins.  Otherwise we will have a new Olympic sport, Dumpster Drug Diving.
     BOOJUM! - enlightening the world.

Don't
A word that immediately brings out the anarchist in your modest artisan, compelling him to attempt whatever is being forbidden.  This is how I know what the inside of a police car looks like, and how many bricks make up the wall of a jail cell.
     Anyway, that has nothing to do with Lindybeige, who was bemoaning the role of an Historical Adviser on a Major Hollywood Blockbusting Historical Epic.  

Lindy, being strict

This chap was on set all the time and approached only once, when the crew wanted to know where an infantry soldier carrying a banner would be positioned in a column: the front, the middle, well to the rear?
     'That's actually a cavalry banner,' he informed them, after which he was ignored.
     Here is Lindy's advice:

     Dammit, Conrad's mind is already starting to think about the answer ...