Now, we gave up reading the Daily Telegraph years ago, as it cost more than the output was worth, and we rather like trees to be alive and waving their branches, rather than being squashed and sent to people with some sort of writing on them as pulp, so we cancelled that and spend the money on important things like a leg of lamb, or some nice bread.
But the deal in Waitrose is that if you spend more than ten splonders, you get a free paper, and so I get one for all to see at home. I hardly ever read it, but yesterday, while the fragrant Senora O'Blene was fussing about in the kitchen, waiting for several things to place on the plates, I skimmed the pages - tincture at hand! (You are a gross sexist brute, Scrobs, and deserve to have your nuts taken off with a blunt sickle)...
After near terminal boredom at the woke tittle-tattle about two ex-royals now living in a 75million pound drum in Los Angeles, and some idiot kneeling down for some stupid reason, I came across a full spread of saddening stories about saddish people going on sad holidays in a rather sad place - Andalusia...
I've only ever been there once; on business, and found it just about OK, but - 'sad'.
So here was this large girl, shrieking about very little on 'holiday', and suddenly realising that she would have to go into quarantine for two weeks when she returned. This has been advertised millions of times, even by the awful BBC, which gets its news from the third form of a small junior school in The Appalachian Mountains, where they prepare stuff for the Democrat Party.
Now, is it beyond the mentality of the stupidest person in the universe to just maybe consider that there may be consequences to dashing off for a couple of weeks of sangria, shags and sin, in a place where she might just get an awful disease after 'dancing' the night away with some oik from a sink estate somewhere unholy?
But the headline was 'Who's going to pay my £2,000 mortgage now'!
I despair, I really do.
Don't despair, scrunched up newspaper can be used to clean car windscreens - which is more than can be said for the BBC.
ReplyDeleteShe should have thought about that when she was packing her tat to go off to sunnier climes. Obviously it never entered her empty head that our lock-down is done for a good reason because she could potentially come back with a compromised immune system. As for whose going to pay her mortgage? Well, I've got better things to worry about such as emptying the cat litter tray.
ReplyDeleteThe BBC is just dire now, Mr H, and I suppose they'll think about praising this person, while saying it's Mr Johnson's fault.
ReplyDeleteI turned on Radio Five dead last night during a wakeful period, and the dross they were spouting made me even more sleepless, such that I just got up at 4.00am and talked to the dog downstairs...
Like the idea of the paper /windscreen episode - it makes good sense!
Anon, too true!
ReplyDeleteWhat a silly bitch she is - she deserves a lot more opprobrium for being so utterly thick.
Don't hold back now on our account...ha!
ReplyDeleteOf course I won't, Thud - yet...
ReplyDeleteYour a nonny mouse friend is me, a.k.a. GG. For some reason I can't post with my name on it like I did before unless I sign in to my Google account (uh?) so I tried again yesterday and thought it had worked. Er, no. I'm trying again having now got a Google code and it's still not working - blast!.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, she's probably back home now currently tweeting and blogging everyone, and hoping to get five minutes of fame she's busy preparing herself for a visit from the press. Pffft says I.