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I’m now over a quarter of the way through this project. Only 274 consecutive daily blog posts to go, easy beansy. Hang on, no, that’s not right, it’s easy peasy, isn’t it? I got peas and beans confused there. I’ve clearly been spending too much time with my lady friend from Sainsbury’s. +Oh yes, yet another hilarious joke courtesy of David’s Daily Digital Dollop. What are you going to do with your lives when this project is over and you’re not treated to jokes like that on a daily basis any more?
My frequent references to sainsbury’s has caused a little bit of disgruntlement with one Michael Wackington, who commented on Dollop 90 saying, “Sainsbury’s … why not your local Co-op,?) The first time I mentioned that I’d gone to Sainsbury’s in these Dollops, I was sure that someone would question my shopping habits, suggesting that I shouldn’t be using supermarkets.
This is the problem with going around the world singing all these songs of social conscience: people expect you to actually really have those values, rather than the fact that I obviously just do it for financial gain, conning the gullible lefty idiots out of their money. We tell them all sorts of nonsense, and they just lap it up, the feckless fools: our CDS are made out of bio degradable material and contain 100 % organic music, recorded in a studio which is powered purely by the sun. Actually, this statement isn’t entirely false, although, what the gullible lefty idiots don’t know is that when I say the sun, I am not referring to solar power, but the fact that our albums are funded by Rupert Murdoch’s tabloid newspaper. In fact, if you listen to our albums in reverse, you’ll discover that it’s littered with subliminal sensationalist, factually inaccurate right-wing propaganda. The only reason none of the folk magazines or radio stations have outed us is because our connections with Murdoch means that we’ve got access to everyone’s personal phone calls and data, and we’ve amassed a large archive of incriminating evidence which we’re ready to unleash on the public if word gets out. One false move from Mark Radcliffe and we’ll reveal what he got up to in Soho in July 2010. One tiny remark from Mike Harding and you’ll all get to hear about that thing with the goat in August 2012. There is a reason why we won the BBC Radio 2 Folk Award last year; you didn’t think it was talent did you? Of course it wasn’t. We’re hardly going to win a Folk Award on merit, at least not until we ditch Michael Hughes. And we’ll win it this year as well, unless one of the other nominated bands have done a similar deal with a disreputable tabloid publication.
Anyway, the reason I shop at Sainsbury’s, Michael Wackington, is because it is only a five minutes walk away from where I live. Plus it is well staffed, meaning that it’s easy for me to get help from someone, because being blind I need someone to get the things for me. My nearest co-op is over a mile away, and is nowhere near as big or as well staffed, meaning that it would probably be more difficult to get someone to go around the shop with me.
In my defence, when I was living in Manchester, I used to shop at the independent shops that were on my street. Also, at that time I was in a relationship with a girl who lived right next to a co-op. I know check me out. In fact, that was the reason we started going out. She mentioned her proximity to the co-op and I instantly became sexually aroused. She’d inadvertently discovered my sexual Achilles heal, and I just couldn’t resist. The next thing I knew we were both naked. Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that night that was cooperative. (I’m suggesting that we had sex, just in case the joke was too subtle for you.) Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that night that was doing special offers. (I’m referring to sex again there; I wouldn’t want you to miss the jokes because they’re too clever for your unsophisticated mind.) Let’s just say that it wasn’t just the prices in the shop in her street that were dropping that night. (That’s a joke about her dropping her knickers, because we had sex, so naturally her knickers had to come down to facilitate the sex. OK, are you catching on to what’s going on now? Right, OK, well let’s see if you can spot the jokes without my help from now on.) Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that night that was hosting a blowout sale. (no, are you still struggling? That’s a reference to oral sex. ,Keep trying, you’ll get there. I know I’m very quick and very clever with the comedy. Don’t beat yourself up about it.) Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that was open all night. (haha, yes, you got that one? Well done.) Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that night that was experiencing unexpected items in the bagging area. (What? You’re struggling with that one are you? OK, that’s fine, let’s work through it slowly together. So you know how those self-service checkouts often say “unexpected items in the bagging area?” yes? Good, OK, well I’m taking that well-known phrase and reappropriating it in a sexual context, which could be interpreted as suggesting that we were engaging in anal sex, or alternatively that I was inserting various objects into her. It’s open to individual interpretation. It’s an open-ended punchline that allows the joke’s recipient to create their own meaning.) Let’s just say that the shop wasn’t the only thing in her street that night that … er … I think I’ve run out. Even a comedy genius such as me has his limits. Feel free to insert your own – which come to think of it was one of the things she said to me that night. Hahahaha, I’m unstoppable!
So if it’s any consolation for Michael Wackington, when I was going out with my girlfriend, we would often shop at the co-op. If you feel as if me shopping at Sainsbury’s is in some way unethical, Michael, blame it on my ex for breaking up with me. If we were still together then I’d still be shopping at the co-op. In fact, we’d probably be buying even more food than before, because we’d be comfort eating in order to take our minds off our miserable, failing relationship. I’ll text her and suggest we get back together. After all, we owe it to the planet!
My ex-girlfriend reads this and comments from time-to-time (I know, she’s clearly regretting her decision, now that she’s seen just how funny I am in these daily Dollops) so perhaps she will get in touch and we can restart our previously failed relationship, simply in order to save the world. And obviously we’ll have to have lots of sex, not because we want to, or in anyway still have feelings for each other, but because the more sex we have, the more condoms we buy from the co-op, making our ethical cause all the more stronger. In fact, why don’t we go the whole hog (which come to think of it was another one of the things she said to me that night) and get married. We could have a co-operative wedding, with everything sourced from the co-op: all the food, the confetti, we could have one of the DJs on the co-op’s instore radio station doing the wedding disco. And then it probably wouldn’t be too long before we end up getting on each other’s tits again, due to us being essentially utterly incompatible, meaning that we drive each other insane and end up killing each other. Of course this would be great news for the co-operative, because we’d have already given instructions to our families that in the event of our deaths we want to have a lavish funeral, provided of course by co-operative Funeral Care. A perfect, flawless, ethical, world-saving plan, I’m sure you’ll agree, Michael Wackington. As long as I don’t die before my 366th consecutive daily blog post, I am more than happy to marry my ex, with a view to us killing each other at the start of 2017. I await her comment with interest.
Michael also goes onto ask me if I tasted the Australian fruit the fingerlime while I was Down Under, which sadly I didn’t, as I was unaware of its existence until now.
“If Peter Kay wants the Finger Lime line, I can split the royalties with you,” writes Michael. Excellent thinking Michael, although I think that perhaps it would be too much of a niche fruit for his English fans, but would go down a treat in Australia, assuming that the Australian audiences have sophisticated enough comedy pallets to appreciate the joke.
“I also want to buy a fingerlime.”
“What? A What?! Fingerlime.” Pause, to heighten the tension; make the audience wait for the big laugh that they’re teetering on the brink of. “Finger?! Lime?!” Another pause, to create further anticipation. “Lime?! Finger? Finger Lime?! As in … like, a lime that tastes of a finger? No thank you. I mean, I wouldn’t imagine it would taste very nice!” Huge eruption of laughter and thirty minutes of WILD applause. Obviously I don’t have the skills of delivery to do the joke justice, but Peter Kay would tear the place apart with that one. Well done Michael Wackington, it’s good to have you onboard.
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