With apologies to The League of Gentlemen…
This tweet was of the first things I saw when I logged on this morning.
And oh, well played, that man.
My goodness! Some water for that burn, ma’am?
(for those non-local readers, Patricia was Mayor of Cape Town for over eight years and was Western Cape Provincial Minister of Social Development prior to that)
(but now she’s not with the DA anymore [#grumpydivorce], and is standing against them in the upcoming election, apparently it’s all their fault that nothing got done)
(these things are never funny if you have to explain them)
(but jeez… politicians are shameless, hey?)
Things were going well. We’d escaped from the more difficult Escape Room at HintHunt in Woodstock. We’d great burgers at Redemption, and then we came home and the internet broke and then the football happened.
I tried to fix things with beer and a braai, but I’m still irritated.
Tomorrow had better be a lot better.
In today’s news (and having checked that it’s not yet April 1st), this:
Now, this might sound a bit OTT, but I can remember being put off going into both Science and Cookery after seeing Beaker and the Swedish Chef on The Muppets. Also, I was strongly dissuaded from buying any ACME products because of the stuff I watched on the Roadrunner cartoon.
Windy Miller from Camberwick Green put me right off living in a windmill, and I studiously avoided being educated in east London because of Grange Hill. After all, who’d want to be beaten up for dinner money by Gripper Stebson?
In fact, the only thing I ever did that bucked this trend was quite regularly having a pee, despite having seen Bob Holness being asked for one on Blockbusters.
Anyway, given this sort of criticism, I think we can all see the forthcoming demise of the misleading and kids TV show Fireman Sam. After all, it would be awful if anyone headed to south Wales only to find that the village of Pontypandy is actually completely fictitious, just like the rest of the CGI cartoon series.
* Eyes roll back so far that I can see my own arse.
I actually thought that this article was about me, until I (thankfully) realised that I was still alive and well, having avoided the strong, unpleasant and all-pervading odour in my local shopping mall yesterday
The thing is with shops like this, it’s not just those choosing to enter the store (although why on earth would you?) who are affected by the stench. Just walking past the front door is bad enough. Of course, it’s worse in the enclosed area of a mall, but I can remember some genre of soap shop on Cornmarket Street in Oxford (it may well still be there), which polluted the entire left hand side of the street.
And it seems that even the experts agree:
Professor Mervyn Sprick from the University of Vange has called for ‘immediate emergency measures’ to be put in place at all shops selling three or more varieties of scented girly products.
He added: ‘This has been a tragedy waiting to happen for a number of years. I have walked past these shops before and people have been complaining of crippling headaches more than 500 yards away.
People don’t realise that although scented soaps are harmless when used individually, the combination of multiple fragrances can often be too much for a male to bear. It is a shame that on this occasion the cognitive overload has cost a young man his life.’
I couldn’t agree more. I now take the longer route around the block to get to the Mugg and Bean entrance of Cavendish Square instead of the direct route, simply to avoid the dangerous malodour wafting from the local branch of Lush.
If we were discussing airborne pathogens here, there would be strict rules and regulations in place. It amazes me that outlets like this continue to brazenly poison the public with noxious fumes with absolute impunity.
It’s only a matter of time until there are deaths in SA from this too.
I was at the till at PicknPay this morning, having done my usual Monday morning check of all the expired produce that they continue to stock on their shelves. (This morning’s list featured “fresh” fish, cauliflower, broccoli and naan bread, with dates ranging from the 21st to the 24th. Lovely.) (We’ve been here before, remember?)
While waiting for the cashier to total up my shopping, I heard a baby crying somewhere behind me. No biggie: I am aware that babies will do this from time to time. The only odd thing about this one was that it sounded rather like a cat. Another cry, and I turned around because it really did sound like a cat, and the simply reason for that was that it was a cat.
There was a man holding a wrapped cat three checkouts away from me.
Obviously, everyone – including the many staff present – now being alerted to the fact that there was a man carrying a pet around in a food retailer, immediately asked him to leave the premises along with his disease-ridden feline. Except of course, they didn’t.
Food safety, standards and hygiene obviously don’t count for much at this “flagship” store of our local number
one two supermarket chain.
You know I love a bit of microbiology, so here’s a short list of things that cats can give you (these are obviously just microbiological things, not airy-fairy things like “unconditional love” or stuff like that:
A real nice mix of bacterial and parasitic infections, right there.
A wonderful addition to the expired foodstuffs you can also pick up and pay for at my local supermarket.