In the news this week was an item concerning the introduction of new flavours of crisps. Why this became national news I don't know but hey, it makes a change from large scale job losses and fighting in Gaza.
The BBC decided to send its hardiest journalists out on some vital vox pop missions. There was the obligatory traditionalist who didn't see the need for change - ' I'm more a cheese and onion man meseslf'', the cheery but slightly barking pensioner who scoffs Bloody Mary crisps and flirts with the camera man -'ooh they're different aren't they? Quite tasty. Will I get a bit tipsy then..?' and the worryingly intense chap who objected to the Cajun Squirrel crisps because' They do not taste like the squirrel. I have eaten the squirrel and this I know.' He had a touch of the Hannibal Lectors about him, if you ask me but then again my imagination is somewhat prone to extremes.
Like today for instance - His Nibs and I were driving along a country road when a car approached slowly in the opposite direction, hazard lights flashing. It was just creeping along. His Nibs considered why this might be. Could it be towing someone says I? Nope, says he, the other car would have lights flashing. [The following car it transpired was indeed rope free and not being towed by the creeping one in front.] Maybe, says I, there's been a carjacking and the driver is surreptitiously trying to alert us! All very James Bond. His Nibs sighed tolerantly and explained in words of one syllable that that could be a possibility but that the car had only one occupant and he looked pretty burly. He didn't quite pat me on the head but you get the idea. There's a lot of that goes on in our marriage but that's a potential witter fest of epic proportions...
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1 comment:
There there, Dear. Condescending?
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