Friday, 12 November 2010

The Curate's Egg VI

Egg of the Day: Battery Hen

I am aware that I haven't written a 'Curate's Egg' since June, and that some of you poor souls may not have grasped the darker depths of my mortal being yet if you are new to my bloggette. If you wish to sample this dish before you buy, you may try the following:

The thing is this, ladies and gentleman, there are some things that wind I up. Like an electronic grump-letting, this post is my leach of choice.

Car Insurance Price Comparison Websites: You can take your squeaking meerkats and you can fry them in hot oil, for these sites are crooked. I sought insurance, a good deal, a little convenience perhaps - so I blatted my particulars into their little boxes to see whether my next years' insurance might be a little less now that I am advancing in years. £238.70 was the best quote I reiceved. Rapture. 'Buy Now' was the button I pressed. £276.97 was the sum in the next box. You crooked villains. You confidence tricksters. You reprobates. I couldn't find a humanly possible way of finding that insurance at that price with that company with the same details. I didn't ask for a lawyer, a hospital on standby, six pints of blood ready for when I have an accident, a fairy godmother, tickets to the proms or any of the other little variables that always seem to pop up. I want CAR INSURANCE - so I can drive my little motorcar, insured. I unticked all the boxes and yes, the price came down - but never to the one quoted. Criminals! Lower than a snake's belly button! No, as ever, I am relying on Fat Wayne down the hill to sort me out. At least I can see the one robbing me then.

Humorous Clothes for Kids with Witty Remarks: I am Trouble said one t-shirt. My Mummy Says I am the Milkman's said another. My Head Rotates At Speed When I have Sugar said another. I am Naughty All The Time said this one. My Little Bruvva and Me Share No Genetic Material said that one. I Poo My Pants for Fun said the last. These garments must be stopped. They must be stopped like bumper stickers should be stopped because they are not funny, they are not witty - they are prophetic. Mothers and fathers up and down the country know this: if the T-shirt says so, it is probably true, only you are the last ones to acknowlege it. Don't mock your progeny, it's not nice. 

Alpha Mail: If I recieve unwanted emails, I can 'spam' them, or if I am very lucky, I can 'unsubscribe' and never recieve another. Why can't I do that with my Church Times? I didn't ask for the Alpha News. It is a course - why does it need a newspaper? I don't see GCSE News or HND National Diploma News. I have yet to be introduced to City & Guilds Hamburger Tech Level II News, so why am I exposed to Alpha News. If I wanted self-congratulatory, mutual back-slapping, 'look at us aren't we great', then I would jolly well ask. Do me the courtesy of  letting me choose to recieve you, not impose yourself on me because you fear I might not. I wish to 'unsubscribe' from Alpha News because as unsolicited material, it is printed spam. 

Hand Soap Dispensers et al: Enter harps, enter coiffeured wimmin, enter clean cut kiddies, enter 'breadwinner' dad - and you have an advert for loo-cleaner or hand soap dispensers. Methinks they labour under false premisses. They tell me that this loo-cleaner is wonderful? Why? Because it kills all known germs ... in my loo. Dead. Like that is a wonderful innovation. People, I am not planning to prepare my dinner in my bog - I am not expecting to run my tongue underneathe the rim. So what if there are germs in my toilet - it really doesn't matter. Smudges and stains, limescale and muck - that isn't nice to see in ones Chapel of Ease - but germs? Then you have the hand-soap plunger dispenser, the modern-day curse of modern-day filthophobes. The germs ... are left ... on the ... plunger after you ... have used it. Hold the world, I wish to get off. I don't need an over-priced electronic super-sensor soap dispensor. Why? Because when I have cleaned my hands with my soothing smelly moisturising soap, I won't be touching the soap dispenser again. Fools. 

I'm spent. Come back soon.

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