hell on tartan wheels
you want war? i've seen war. not the kind with soldiers, tanks and bombs, no.
i mean the war that begins every year on december 26th, the War of The Sales.
i've seen elderly grannies snarl and bare their dentures at each other, shouder-barging one another out of the way, just to get at that pair of american tan tights that have been reduced to 50p.
i've seen young mums using prams as battering rams, whacking the shins of anyone who gets close, using their false nails as miniature bayonets and screaming cbildren with snot-bubbled noses as biological weapons.
i've seen the haunted, hollow-eyed husbands, clustered around the changing rooms, knowing full well that there is no right answer to the question "do i look good in this?"
i've seen all these horrors and more, every year without fail.
but i'll keep going back.
i'll never give up.
i'll never give in.
as long as there's a chance of a pair of silver wedgies reduced to £4, i'll keep fighting to the bitter end.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 31 May 2012, 15:55, Reply)