April 27, 2007

My reading matter on the train this morning consisted first of Viz—featuring the Profanisaurus and the Fat Slags—followed immediately by “Freedom or Death” by Emmeline Pankhurst [foreword by Germaine Greer]; part 7 in a series of 14 Great Speeches of the 20th Century in the Guardian.

Something just doesn’t sit right…


…is a big—albeit reassuringly expensive—pile of shit.

Unless you are one or more of:

  • A benevolent millionaire desperate to fill Hotpoint’s coffers,
  • A retired washing machine repairer who longs for the good old days,
  • Free between the hours of 8-12 or 12-6 roughly once every 6 weeks,
  • Just plain stupid,

then you should treat the act of buying one with the same caution best exercised when wondering whether or not to join Goldilocks for a nice porridge breakfast and a lay-down. Whilst wearing a T-shirt saying “Mummy Bear’s a Slut.”

When going shopping with my girlfriend, she held up a rather pleasant—yet ornate—dress in front of her, and asked me what I thought.

Rather than “Crikey—that looks stunning,” or “I wonder if she’ll ask me if it makes her bum look big,” my first thought was “That’s lovely, but it’ll just be a devil for me to iron.”

Does anyone have some slippers, a cardigan, or a nice sweet sherry I could borrow for a while?