British Bloody Supermarkets And The Two Quid Chicken
Is it just me or do you hate being told how much cheaper Asda are than Tesco during every commercial break?
Tesco have clearly decided if you can't beat 'em join 'em judging by my televisual viewing last night, with Neil Morrissey gleefully informing me how much cheaper than Sainsburys they are.
I also had to do a quick double-take but I'm sure that the irritating tosspot then went on to tempt me with the offer of a chicken for two quid.
Two quid? That was just a penny more than the punnet of strawberry's he was trying to push my way. There was no mention of the origin of said chicken, or the standards by which it had been raised. Nor, indeed, exactly how much they had managed to screw the poor farmers supplying said two quid chickens into the ground by for the dubious honour of providing these birds.
Lets get something straight. I don't need Neil chuffing Morrissey offering me a two quid chicken, or anything else for that matter. I think you can guess what I'd like to do to Neil Morrissey with a two quid chicken. I don't want Alan the Kopite Hansen and Lulu advising me on my nutritional intake either. And I certainly don't want to be taking advice on party nibbles from a bloated trout like Kerry Katona and a batty boy like Jason Donovan.
If you want to persuade me to buy something get Sarah Beeney in. Licking cream from the corner of her mouth would be a start, or accidentally spilling chocolate fondue all down her front and having to remove her shirt. That's what I want to see, that's what the people want, the first supermarket that brings that in can have my business no questions.
Tesco have clearly decided if you can't beat 'em join 'em judging by my televisual viewing last night, with Neil Morrissey gleefully informing me how much cheaper than Sainsburys they are.
I also had to do a quick double-take but I'm sure that the irritating tosspot then went on to tempt me with the offer of a chicken for two quid.
Two quid? That was just a penny more than the punnet of strawberry's he was trying to push my way. There was no mention of the origin of said chicken, or the standards by which it had been raised. Nor, indeed, exactly how much they had managed to screw the poor farmers supplying said two quid chickens into the ground by for the dubious honour of providing these birds.
Lets get something straight. I don't need Neil chuffing Morrissey offering me a two quid chicken, or anything else for that matter. I think you can guess what I'd like to do to Neil Morrissey with a two quid chicken. I don't want Alan the Kopite Hansen and Lulu advising me on my nutritional intake either. And I certainly don't want to be taking advice on party nibbles from a bloated trout like Kerry Katona and a batty boy like Jason Donovan.
If you want to persuade me to buy something get Sarah Beeney in. Licking cream from the corner of her mouth would be a start, or accidentally spilling chocolate fondue all down her front and having to remove her shirt. That's what I want to see, that's what the people want, the first supermarket that brings that in can have my business no questions.