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Waitrose is to test a delivery service which will allow customers to experience all their innate superiority over their neighbours, without any of the tiresome waving of artisan cheese under their nose. Instead, the driver will unpack your priggishness and gnocchi, while you can enjoy a night at the theatre or an introductory lute-making class.
Drivers will gain access to your property (via the servant’s entrance) and carefully unload your over-priced snobbishness, from bags made from recycled conceit. Just in case your neighbours are away, the driver will nail your shopping list to their door, using vintage cast iron nail and a gluten-free baguette.
The driver will wear a body camera, allowing envious locals to view your wondrous array of halloumi, charcuterie and ricotta – which are coincidently the names of your children. Even neighbour’s pets will be left impressed by your dog’s tinned tofu treats, accompanied by doggy crudités and avocado flavoured chorizo.
One shopper explained: ‘I’m obviously a better person, but I need you to know that as well. It’s not enough that I voted Remain and can name more than one type of mustard. Everyone needs to know their place – in my case, it’s plaice with pea purée, served asparagus and not a nectar point in sight’.
Sarah Tipper - Jul 14, 2021
Updated: Jun 22, 2022
Experienced bosom owner Sally Jones achieved the once in a lifetime triumph this week of buying a bra online which fitted her actual form, the actual shape she is now, rather than a shape she has been in the past, or may be in future, or might belong to a hypothetical woman that is not her.
Her day began as usual, with her putting on her old faithful pink T-shirt bra which has gone a bit tatty and which she finds the straps slip down on a bit more often than they used to. In the back of her mind she was aware she’d ordered some up top smalls from M&S but she never hoped for one moment that this would be a successful transaction. She was fully expecting to be in the Post Office queue returning the tit pants on Saturday morning.
When the package arrived she ignored it for an hour, knowing that never in all her years of having lady bumps to dress and a computer have the two aligned usefully. Bras bought online are always too tight, too loose or too lumpy, leading to a sort of slightly rude Goldilocks type scenario but without disgruntled bears.
Eventually Sally Jones thought she may as well either cram her coconuts into something too small or let her sin cushions dangle as unsupported as a female MP who wants decent maternity leave. Sally carefully opened the package, ready for re-sealing it when her new bra had failed her, and was pleased by the lovely pistachio colour which had looked a bit different on the internet because they do, don’t they?
She took off old faithful and noticed that the old guard and the new recruit seemed on the face of it to be of similar dimensions. She could still breathe after doing up new bra and when she looked in the mirror was astounded to see that her jubblies were well contained, with no pinching, overhang or spare space. “It’s a titty bonanza!” exclaimed Sally.
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