The Stuff Of Nightmares

This morning Karen got Mothering Sunday off to a good start by telling me of the dream she'd had last night…

It seems we were having a big party and for some inexplicable reason we’d invited Jamie Oliver along (hopefully not to do the catering). Each time Karen tried to get into the bathroom to use the toilet she found Jamie Oliver just leaving the facilities. Upon closer inspection she found that Jamie’s bathroom manners left much to be desired… basically pukka poo splattered all over the bowl and all over the seat to boot. Disgusting. Three times this occurred in the dream.

Anyway. Maybe it’s the “three” motif but it reminded me of the Old Testament story of Pharaoh’s dream of three fat cows and three thin cows and how Joseph correctly interpreted the dream to save Egypt from famine.

I feel the dream is significant in some way but can’t fathom it out. I need a modern day Joseph to analyse it and tell me what it means.

Any ideas, anyone?

Let Them Eat Mouldy Bread

Sainsbury’s, I am disgusted with you. Absolutely disgusted.

No. No. Don’t even attempt to apologize. It’s too late now and this has happened too many times in the past for me to be able to stomach another one of your grovelling, boot sole licking attempts at contrition.

What do you care, anyway? As long as you get my money each week you’re laughing all the way to the bank.

Never mind that yet again the bread we bought “fresh” from you on Sunday is already mouldy!

I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened. What amazes me most is that (due to lack of a bread bin and lack of space) we store our bread in the fridge. So how can it be going mouldy in three days?

Either your workers are fingering my thick cut slices before I purchase them or your bakers are doing unsavoury things with my dough.

Well thank you, Mr Sainsbury, for yet another mid-week noon break saddled with an empty lunchbox.

You can stick Jamie Oliver right up between your yeasty buns.