Monday, February 23, 2009
So I go into Ryman to buy some, you know, stuff, the sort of stuff that can only really be described as stuff. The girl at the checkout wants me to spend another £1 on a Red Nose Day pen. How can I refuse? 'You could give it to your grandson or granddaughter,' she says brightly in an attempt to warm my heart. The organ in question freezes solid.
Posted by Bryan Appleyard at 10:50 am