Sunday, 7 February 2016

Home Sense of humour

Today has not turned out as planned. It was supposed to be a gentle sort of muddling around day involving a small amount of housework followed by a walk to the garden centre in the next village for tea and scones, then back home to make a batch of carrot & parsnip soup.
That was the plan until the boy announced that he needed a lift to Cambridge because he'd arranged to see his cousin. Great.
So rather than have to do the journey twice, we turfed him out of the car at his destination before going off to kill a couple of hours on our own.
After a snack in Scotsdale's cafe and a gentle stroll around Cherry Hinton park, it was still a bit early, so we ended up in a retail park. Will we never learn?

After wandering aimlessly around a couple of places, gradually losing the will to live, we walked into a place called 'Home Sense' which was full of what some might call 'interior design' stuff, but I think a more accurate description would be 'useless shit'.
I honestly could not imagine anyone wanting to fill their homes with the crap in that place, and yet the queue of people at the checkout suggested otherwise.
A couple were trying to figure out which mirror to buy, having a conversation that went something like:
HER: "I like this one best" (holding up an ugly great plaster moulding about three foot diameter with a little 10 inch mirror in the middle)
HIM: "It's alright but I prefer the first one" (indicating an even bigger lump of plaster with a slightly larger mirror inside)
HER: "Well I don't mind - you decide" (careful mate, you know that's code for 'choose the one I want or else')
HIM: "Babe this mirror business is doing my head in..."

By this point I was ready to run screaming for the exit, but then I spotted this, and it turned my train of thought on its head.


I looked around again to check this wasn't actually a joke shop we'd been browsing but no, this stuff was actually for sale. I mean seriously, who the hell would want to pay twenty five quid for this monument to bad taste? It was at this point I started to laugh.
Looking along the nearby shelves I suddenly realised that what we had here was a whole new form of entertainment. Seeing the potential for a blog post, I pulled out my phone and snapped some pictures to illustrate my point:

 What appears to be a black baby dressed and posed like a buddhist monk
with a sash of tiny mirror squares. Why?


 WTF??? A dog with pink headphones riding a Vespa?
Now I've seen it all.


 A handy chair that will never need cleaning because any stain or
spillage will look like it's supposed to be there.


Words fail me.


This sort of material suggests that there is a previously untapped source of humour to be explored here. One could easily have a competition to find the most ghastly items on sale, and this shop is the perfect starting point.
We did another lap of the place with this new found approach and instead of wondering what the f**k we were doing in there, we actually had a damn good laugh. God knows what the CCTV operator must have made of us.
I was reminded of a bit from 'Absolutely Fabulous' when Edina is intending to open her own shop:
EDINA: I'm opening a shop, darling.
PATSY: Ooh lovely, what are you going to sell?
EDINA: Oh, just lots of gorgeous things.
PATSY: Expensive things?
EDINA: Of course.

It's good to have a laugh at something, especially as BT still haven't sorted out our broadband problems. Having to converse with someone in a bloody call centre in India is enough to destroy anyone's sense of humour.
Wake up BT, it's supposed to be BRITISH Telecom!!! I have nothing against India or its people, but is it really too much to ask to speak to an English person rather than struggle to comprehend someone with an accent so thick you could use it to mend the potholes in the road?