Monday, July 18, 2005

Fake

Fake

I was dragged into QS the other day. That’s QS – the shop that is no longer Quality Seconds that flogs clothes that don't usually fall to pieces within a week.

Whilst doing the usual supportive-husband-whilst-clothes-shopping thing (nodding in the right places and remembering to look interested), my attention was diverted to the bargain bin by the till.

Two of your English pounds, ladies, buys you a bra with inflatable cups. Inflatable cups, which you pump up (and hey, I know where I’d place the nozzle!) to make fried-egg lady-bumps look bigger.

Now, excuse me, I’m a man of the world, and I, for one, find this a rather worrying development. I mean, apart from a warm and pleasing personality, what else does a man look for an a female partner? Exactly.

The whole concept is little short of fraud, and should be stamped out forthwith.

Secondly, there's the question of cross-dressers. God forbid that we should make these people look convincing. Where would the world be if we didn't know who was boy and who was no-tail? Letting Culture Club get to number one, that's where (he said, about twenty years too late). I've seen Mrs Doubtfire, and it's wrong, WRONG, WRONG. They'll be having girls with facial hair and socks down the front of their undercrackers in no time flat, you mark my words.

And good grief, if things aren't bad enough as it is, there’s the safety issue as well. Heaven knows what might happen if there’s an explosive decompression.

Stop this filth NOW!

I am not mad.


Excellent!

I Need Help - "I've learned my lesson. The words 'fanny flaps' will just never be sexy."

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