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Confusionally Discombobulated

Want a top diet tip? Eat two bags of these crisps EVERY night around 8pm to stave off hunger. Unbelievably it works, it’s something we have done for nearly three years and has helped us keep our ideal weight whilst not giving us the feeling of penalised and unable to enjoy treats at the same time.

Stupid isn’t it? It’s the Smiths Crisps diet although that may have already been used somewhere. The worst thing about the diet though is buying the crisps in the first place.

You would not believe the amount of comments, questions and other sideways glances you get when you pick up eight bags of twelve. ‘Got a lot of kids love?’ was one such question yesterday and ‘Crisp sandwiches tonight?’ was another followed by a cackle of a laugh. ‘Having a party?’, ‘Do you like crisps?’ And the oh so annoying ‘Got enough there have you? Hahahaha!!’ Enough to soften the blow of my fist as it pummels your flubby face I often think. So like a drug dealer I have to spread our crisp purchases out over various locations to avoid crisp related banter, it’s either that or start replying with suggestions that I use the crisps in some kind of Fifty Shades way by allowing people to eat them off my naked body. Knowing my luck it would probably back fire and I’ll end up talking to somebody that actually does that but with Wotsits instead and they would end up suggesting some kind of kinky crisp contortion that I was unaware of and will never erase from my mind for as long as I live.

Whilst out and about yesterday I noticed a new trend, old shoppers wearing headphones or listening to music. Odd isn’t it, especially as they are even more unaware of people around them so I delightfully had one elderly gentleman wandering around the supermarket listening to some easy listening music who made it his purpose in life to either get in my way or casually bump me with his trolley when he turned around because he couldn’t hear what was behind him. Even at the checkout he continued listening and occasionally shouted ‘PARDON!’ Over the noise of his personal concert. By the fifth time of him shouting this I was sorely tempted to purchase a pair of scissors and snip his cords so to speak. Then just as I was getting over this annoyance who joins my queue but a lady with iPod ear buds who looked around sixty loading the conveyor belt whilst randomly shouting ‘Baby, Baby’ and ‘Go Bitch’ inbetween lip miming some sordid pop tune and occasionally hip thrusting the counter, it was all most distasteful.

Where has this come from? Why did I see a tattoo on an arm that just had the word ‘Potato’ and a crown on it? Why did I witness a small child (around six) eating Billy Bear meat and telling their parents what to do and what to buy whilst shopping? What on earth was the person buying a 24 cans of cider and a pack of brussels going to do? And what is the logic of packaging small onions with the words ‘Small Onions’ on the front and offering them for sale at 69p for a KG when the same identical onions (I checked) sat next to them with the words Small Shallots priced at £1 for 350g? Are we really that stupid?

Just as I was pondering this and many more earth shattering revelations the back of my legs buckled as an Beats headphone wearing OAP swung a fully laden basket my way. Three in one shop! It’s OAP headphone madness!

Will somebody PLEASE tell me what’s going on, I’m awfully confused.


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