Monday 27 December 2010

It's the season of goodwill.

It never ceases to amaze me how much crap people are prepared to buy at Christmas time. If it's not overloaded shopping trolleys filled with umpteen presents for spoilt ungrateful brattish children or alcohol, saturated fats and E-numbers to the point of needing a HGV licence to push it, then it's the cretins that crawl out from the woodwork in the hope of finding a cheap piece of  'tat' in the sales.

As you are all aware, i'm an effervescent, cultured, well mannered, 24 carat chap who can not only cook authentic dishes '' from scratch '' but is someone who has been likened many a time to that debonair pinnacle of class and sophistication; Nigel Havers. As such, i resist all temptation to venture out during the sales and rub shoulders with the hoi-poloi, until today. Needs must you see......

Being a delicate soul means i'm not a fan of large crowds as most people these days are extremely lacking in life's basics, such as; manners and common courtesy. Even more so when the opportunity of a non-existent bargain is on the horizon. Notice that i used the word 'non-existent'. That's because last week i decided to price up a few items for Casa Heckles, you know, spruce the homestead up a little and bag a cheeky bargain or three [a state pension doesn't go far these days i'll have you know]. Anyway.... upon fighting my way through today's riff-raff, a couple of things hit my senses like a bolt out of the blue.

[1] That there were NO real bargains to be had. In fact some of the stuff had actually gone UP in price, despite all the banners screaming 'prices slashed' and 'beat the VAT rise in Jan'. How i giggled as those poor deluded fools fought over the 'bargains' like vultures picking at the sun ripened flesh of a rotting carcass half crushed on the highway to hell [or Coventry].

[2] Instead of these highly annoying people wasting time ohh-ing & ahh-ing over which plasma tv to buy why didn't they walk across the street and pop into Boots to purchase a bar of soap and some toothpaste because so many shoppers i had to push past needed a damn good scrub. At best, one woman smelt like the stale jock strap of a South African rugby player ... ahem......so i've been told. I guess it says something about society when a person would rather pay £500 for a telly than a measly £5 for soap, deodorant and some 'intimate' hygiene products. Filthy bugger.

 Stay clean and smell nice, and somebody out there will like you - eventually!



Sunday 19 December 2010

Proper music....

...not like the rackett they play nowadays