I Love Primark

Had to go out clothes shopping yesterday, and I hate clothes shopping. That’s why I go around dressed like a complete tramp most of the time. I also hate washing and ironing, but that’s a separate issue. If I want to make a bold statement about my appearance, I’d prefer to get a tattoo than buy a new pair of jeans.

Some of my pants are so old, it’s only the stubborn under-stains holding them together *

To make things more complicated, the clothes I needed to get were for a funeral next week. Luckily, my family are an odd lot and they want the event to be fun, rather than some dour occasion. I toyed with the idea of getting a Dracula costume from the fancy dress shop, but then realised this might be a tad inappropriate. Mainly because they’ve ruled out black – only bright colours will be allowed.

Interestingly, they’ve also chosen to go for a woven basket coffin, and no wreaths are to be bought. Instead we have to thread flowers through the weaves of the coffin. Presumably after that we’ll all sacrifice a goat, drink it’s blood, and then dance around naked, like fools.

All sounds a bit like The Wicker Man for my liking. Well I’m not going to touch the coffin, no fucking way.

Anyway, back to the shopping: too utterly confound my troubles, I decided to do it in Bromley – i.e Chav Central. At one point I got “the fear” and almost started crying whilst walking through the busy Glades Shopping Centre. Luckily I grew a pair, and instead of having a breakdown – marched into Primark. There, I was able to buy a pair of bright red chinos, 2 pairs of jeans and a tie – all for £30. That should fix me up nicely for next 10 years or so.

Bet I never wear the tie though.

* I stole this line from Vyvyan in The Young Ones, circa 1984.


Funny, RIP, Woe


This is a personal website and the views expressed here are my own (or stolen from other people down the pub). Facts may not be accurate, or could be poorly paraphrased gags borrowed from proper writers - or simply, outright lies.