Skip to main content

HOT NEWS JUST IN


Had a fantastic morning preparing for England's win in rugby.

Or will it be a win in Derby?

Well, it's not that I will be attending the match, or that I might even watch it on television – in fact I don’t even know if or when they are playing - but I could tell something might up judging by the copious amount of Carlsberg Lager people were buying from the supermarket when I popped in at 7.30am.

I had been instructed by the wife to purchase some "low fat" (could have sworn that is the name of our local Chinese Take-Away) red cheese, and found out something that made me slightly suspicious, not that I might be in any way cynical when it comes to supermarket shopping, you will understand.

All the red cheese - the normal, the "Be Good" to yourself, the simply red cheese (presumably the stuff Mick Hucknall buys), the super-duper "Taste the Difference" and the Con You Sir, oops, I mean Connoisseur red cheese contained EXACTLY 33.7g fat per 100g.

That, to me, is one of life's true con-incidents, oops, I mean coincidences. Smells a bit fishy. Or cheesy.

Were they perchance from the same batch, genetically related, only packaged differently in order to sell them to the unaware shopper at varying prices? Or was I being a little too harsh on the supermarkets who, after all, offer on the one hand such good value to the farmers they beat up, and on the other, save local shopkeepers from paying rent by forcing them out of businesses?

There were also a few logistic problems at the checkout - one of those multi-ones for baskets only, where four operators sit back to back. The Sikh checkout didn't want to sell a joint of beef, while both the Jewish and Muslim operators didn't want to sell bacon. The Jehovah’s Witness was refusing to sell a woman sanitary towels. 

Then the supermarket team leader adjusted his shorts, straightened his "Bob the Builder" badge and frogmarched into the fray, unprepared to speak to anyone who wasn't related to either someone with an OBE, or who, at the very least, had an Oxbridge education. Although with his headphones on, shouting self-important instructions into his microphone, it’s a wonder he could talk to anyone (those who shop in the same supermarket I do will know the one I mean - the buck-toothed, greasy-haired little oik who was in charge of North Korea in a former life).

After all this excitement, I then dashed home to watch Jeremy Kyle, only to discover I can’t stand the programme and don’t even know what channel or when it’s on!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Airport amusement

There is no doubt that airports can be quite amusing places. That is apart from being told by a burly security supervisor at the x-ray gate that thanks to the only contribution Yasser Arafat ever made to society, I had to remove my belt, shoes, watch and place my AK-47 in the tray provided. Watching people going around their travel ‘business’ in airports and on board the aircraft is hilarious. There are those who are plainly not very good at it, continually checking all manner of minutiae with the other members of the party. “Do we go to the gate?”, “Have we time for a beer?”, “I MUST get a pizza”. There are those who have plainly not done it much before and like their fellow travellers to be made fully aware of the exact opposite, as they point and gesture to the monitor shouting out their destination and boarding gate at every passing opportunity to one and all around them. There are those who think they are something special – despite the fact they are travelling via bu...

Are Camelot dim, dysfunctional, liars or just plain greedy?

There can be no denying that UK lottery operators Camelot are on to a good thing. Especially the overpaid management. They have been reaping the benefits of the franchise for years now - a franchise that in essence, has been licenced by the government to print money. However, I can't quite make up my mind whether the management of the Lotto are dim, dysfunctional, liars or just plain greedy, although the cynic in me answers the question when I consider the chief Executive of Camelot was complaining last year that the annual bonus on her not inconsiderable 7-figure salary had been reduced (conveniently forgetting her 18 year sojourn to date at Camelot has produced a pension we mere mortals can only dream about. How about the poor soldiers, CEO Dianne Thompson, who come back from the far-east minus a leg and have to legally fight for compensation that doesn't even touch what you earn less than a month? And they don't receive CBE's for their troubles either !). Irres...

Why your kids never reply to your mobile communications

A frequent topic of conversation among my own peer group of retired and semi-retired wrinklies is regarding Millennials (born 1981 to 2000) and early Generation Z (2001 to 2020) and their ability to be glued to their mobiles 24/7, yet never replying in a timely manner to a communication from their older kith and kin. They don't reply, yet will gladly get it touch immediately with their own peers to ask, "Do you follow Chardonnay Moron on 'Insta' - she's soooo cool". Yes, cool, but otherwise clueless, and usually an inept, Beluga-lipped, tattooed moron who prefers to spout total crap on 'soshul meeja' on topics they in reality know absolutely nothing, using this as a job, instead of actually working gainfully for a living. " Like, follow and share " are the only three words these wastes of space know. Yet they are the new Messiahs of the Millennials and Gen Z, and woe betide any Millennials or Gen Z who might miss one single word - spelt wron...