Adam's Blog

As if weaving in and out of dithering old ladies in a post-Christmas daze isn't already a hideous experience. I saw these for sale (sail?) in Marks and Spencer today. Literally teaching kids it's OK to aim for 50% in a spelling exam.

I can't even believe it.

How did this happen? There must have been several levels where this may have been noticed before the public got to see it. And I thought M&S was for 'posh people and all that'. Clearly not any more. Admittedly, these were probably made in China by some child who would love just one of these slippers as a home, so the fault isn't at the sweatshop - it's squarely with M&S.

I can't decide if getting it wrong on just one, instead of two makes me more angry or not. I mean, even if you did leave school with nothing more than a working knowledge of a Sky Plus remote, you can still see that the shapes are different - there's a different amount of letters and one of them has a gap with a little mark after the U. No excuse.

This isn't the first time M&S have been so shocking:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6208295.stm

Details a T-Shirt sold where the slogan reads 'Mum's dreaming of a quiet Christmas just like the one's she used to know'. Brilliant.

Secondly, there's:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/g2/story/0,,1888977,00.html

Here M&S have a pyjama top with two giraffes on it with the words 'Baby Giraffe's'.

I can live with "MOT's", and "Banana's half price, passed there sail bye date", but not this!

Posted by Tumbleweeds at 2:06 pm | Permalink | Comments

Yet again, tradition dictates that we bring a tree indoors and give the cat a great excuse to shit in the house.

We just got a Christmas tree for the lounge and it got me thinking how this ever became normal. Imagine we visited an alien planet and discovered that once a year, the top of the evolutionary chain in this discovered world would bring a plant indoors, cover it with lights, plastic balls and sweet food produce. Quiz their sanity as they watch it die slowly over the following 10 days as the Dyson struggles to keep up with it's dropping foliage. Then, when it's completely dead, muse how they put it in a corner of the garden and hope one day a passing drunkard takes it off their little alien hands. I'm pretty certain this is the prime reason we've yet to see life outside of our own, crazy, tree-hugging world.

I know that sounds a bit Anti Christmas (not Santa's sister), which isn't me at all. I love Christmas, the smell of the tree (when not concocted with cat poo), and everything else to do with this merry season. Amen.

Posted by Tumbleweeds at 1:31 pm | Permalink | Comments