Nuclear Sushi was the original name of the pop group who I think became Atomic Nigiri, but that aside, according to The Sun (the first read of the day for any in-touch PR), sushi is now being scanned for post-Fukushima radiation.

This is worrying. Anything that puts a brake on the sushi bandwagon rolling through London is a disaster (not a real disaster obviously, more a minor annoyance).

Where once it was coffee shops popping up on every corner, the retail economy is now being sustained by takeaway sushi bars, supplying the food equivalent of PR: pretty to look at, expensive and not quite fully satisfying.

Anyhow, I had assumed my pickled cucumber was meant to be that colour (as the home preserving bishop said to the actress) but the fact that it has started glowing in the dark is a worry (as the actress... etc).

Good news story of the week is that P&G has sold Pringles. Not only because it raised £1.4bn for the hard pressed Olay-peddler, but also because it might mean the new owner abandons the ridiculous 'Pringles equals fun' ad campaign still occasionally fouling our TV screens. Fun? I have always assumed that Pringles are for lonely saddoes who can barely haul their lard-caked rears off the sofa to reach for another tube.

Karoline (with a K) recounts being summoned by Food Brokers (RIP) about 25 years ago to come up with a PR campaign to launch the imitation crisp. Having failed to find any product benefit at all, she hit on the idea of a word of mouth campaign claiming that the highly flavoured coating included a secret addictive ingredient.

"Why else would anyone eat them more than once?" she reasoned. Completely false, of course, but on such moments of genius are long lasting PR careers (and £1.4bn brands) built.

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